


Opalescent

by PresidentGuppy



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Blood and Gore, M/M, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PresidentGuppy/pseuds/PresidentGuppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...alright, what is it?" Mephisto sighs, closing the window and drawing the curtains. He didn't need anyone to see him accommodating other demons--especially ones that broke through the outer barriers as if they were paper. </p>
<p>"Well," Amaimon begins, feeling smug, "I have initiated a courtship. With Rin."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Things had been awkward as of late in cram school. Rin’s friends...they didn’t trust him--not _yet_ , anyway. They’d get there.

But for now he was stuck, idly hanging around the doorway, around Shiemi, sometimes his brother, trying desperately to fit into the niche he had left behind. The loneliness was steadily eroding his sanity, sure, but pretending not to notice them flinching away when he came near was worse.

Rin wasn’t an idiot. Sure, he hated studying with a passion, and yeah, maybe he skipped school more times than he could count, but he wasn’t _stupid_. He knew he had to prove himself to them, maybe more than once, that he wasn’t just satan’s spawn.

This didn’t stop him, however, from getting reckless.

He had slung his arm around Konekomaru in a friendly manner, just as he had many times before ( _he should’ve known better, he knew, so why-?_ ). He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened next.

Okay, he did know. The real question was-- _why_?

Konekomaru had panicked at the sudden intrusion of his personal space. He had shoved Rin with all the brute force of a flailing cat. Naturally, this had no effect on him--Rin was much stronger than that--but he had been surprised enough to let himself be moved back.

Now, hanging about in the cram school classroom was one of Rin’s favourite things to do. As of late he’d been hanging around the back, occasionally watching Shiemi mess around with pharmaceuticals and messing around with Bon. This section of the classroom in particular held many supplies for the average exorcist in training--leaflets of summoning paper, ammunition, spare rod parts, and several gallons of triple grade holy water.

The shelves were old and creaked in protest when so much as a breeze flew by. It was only natural that when Rin fell into it everything fell apart. Boxes, tubs, and jars fell down, landing solidly on the floor. The containers of holy water crashed, exploding on contact with the ground, thoroughly soaking a very confused half demon.

There was a brief moment of silence as the students registered just what the hell had happened. Rin felt the cool water, almost refreshing on the warm spring day, sinking into his clothes and skin.

Then it started to _burn_.

Rin’s skin started to steam. It felt as if he had been dunked into a vat of boiling oil, his skin forming red bumps that quickly spread into blisters, even becoming blackened on the tips of his fingers.

The shock of it was enough to make him start swearing profusely.

“Rin!” Shiemi called out in alarm, “Are you okay?”

He is definitely not okay. The holy water that had seeped into his hair fell into his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Konekomaru, what the hell?” Bon’s angry shout was muffled by the sizzling of Rin’s burning flesh.

“I’m--I didn’t mean--He _scared_ me!”

It hurt to move, but he did. The water leaking into his shoes from the puddle below left him in distress. Red marred his vision--blood. He tries to cover his eyes, keep the water from getting in, but his hands are wet too.

“It’s not his fault,” Rin rasps. It hurts--fuck it hurts, but he wouldn’t let his friend take the blame. It was his own fault--he should’ve known not to get so close, not to startle them when they were so terrified of him already.

Bon grits his teeth. He both admired and despaired over Rin’s forgiving nature. “ _Fuck_ \--hey, man. Are you okay?” His voice was a bit gentler this time around--he could smell the faint waft of burning flesh that was gradually getting stronger.

Rin tries to summon his flames, desperate to get rid of the water, but gets nothing for his trouble. They are doused the moment he tries, suffocating just as he is.

Shiemi--he knows because she smells like the earth, fresh soil and pollen--gently takes a hold of his sleeve, encouraging him to take steps away from the busted shelf and leaking water. He’s grateful, even though the tightening fabric tears open the angry blisters on his arm.

Rin regrets escaping Yukio’s ever present gaze to hide in the classroom. As suffocating as he was, his younger brother would know instantly what to do.

“God- _damnit_ Konekomaru, get some towels or something!” Bon rounds on Shima as well, who quickly raises his hands in a peaceable gesture and runs out, already knowing what to do.

Rin’s burning skin is getting worse--he swipes at some of the remaining water that hasn’t sunk into his pores, and is horrified to feel several layers peel away, soaking his hand further in his own blood.

Shiemi’s gasp is drowned out by the growing panic that starts ringing in his ears. He was going to _die_ at this rate. The water wasn’t going to rest until it had sunk into his very bones and doused his core.

Rin takes a stumbled step towards the door, then another. More until he was sprinting out, past the gates of the building and down the road until he reaches the dorm he and Yukio share, leaving his classmates behind.

Yukio isn’t at the house when he collapses in the entryway, nor is he there when Rin drags himself to the first floor bathing room, gasping wretchedly. Calling for his brother amounts to nothing.

He was alone.

Barely able to move and still burning, he felt like he was in hell. Dragging himself to the unused communal showers was a journey in itself. He had to take frequent breaks to get his own breathing under control.

At least he reaches the empty stalls, reaching up painfully to turn the dial. He could wash the holy water away, dry off and stem the blood flowing from his arm as he waited for Yukio to find him. The dial squeaks in protest as it turns, but he’s relieved when the water rains down.

Or at least, he was, until it started to burn him anew.

He howled as his skin blackened and charred, the smell making him gag. The water collecting around him became steam as it reached his already burning skin. The holy water that had remained in his clothes was purifying the rest.

Rin chokes on the smell of his own burning flesh. He can’t see anymore--the water falling into his eyes blinded him.

Moving isn’t an option. The nerves in his limbs are fried. Whatever that turned black can no longer be moved, leaving him stranded, drowning in agony.

He lays there, agonized, too weak to move. His gasps fading as consciousness slipped away.

There are footsteps. He can barely hear them, slowly robbed of his senses as his desperate gasps fade with his consciousness.

Silence, and the burning rain stops.

A hand takes a hold of the back of his shirt, dragging him out of the water to safety, leaving him soon after.

“Wai-” His raspy call is cut off when a strange, oil like substance is poured on him by the gallon full, spilling into his mouth. It tastes like an odd mix of ash and dirt. He’s covered from his head to his feet, stopping the burn, leaving only a throbbing pain behind.

The heat fades away, only to be replaced by a deep _cold_ that sunk into his veins and left him shuddering, his agonized moans muffled into the floor.

“Strange,” A familiar voice hums, “I came to kill you, but you’re already doing it all by yourself.”

Amaimon, King of Earth, sat down next to his half-brother’s semi-curled form. He tilted his head in interest, considering what was in front of him. Rin was an absolute mess--covered in odd bumps and blisters, his skin in varying shades of red and black, some gone completely to reveal the shredded muscle beneath. His eyes were red, blood streaking down his face in a grotesque example of tears.

Rin doesn’t move; doesn’t dare to breathe. Amaimon wants to _kill_ him--what better time to do it then now, while he was defenseless and so near to death already?

“Hey, don’t ignore me.” A long nail prodded Rin’s cheek insistently, threatening to break open a blister. When he received no reply, the sharp nail digs deeper, gouging into the ruined skin, leaving Rin gasping in pain. “That’s no fun.”

Rin vaguely wonders what he wants. Amaimon had gotten what he had wanted last time--Rin had lost control and fought him, had nearly killed his friends in the process, was nearly put down by the order…

Amaimon pouts. He had come with the expectation of a good fight. Rin had been fun to brawl with, and he hadn’t exactly lost. They still had to see who was the winner, after all.

But no, Rin was already looking like he’d been put through a grinder.

How terribly unfair.

“...Hey, why were you doing that, anyway?” That being the mess of blood and dead skin left behind to stain the shower stall. “There are better ways to get to Gehenna than that, you know.”

It was true--suicide was a one way ticket to Gehenna, your crimes against humanity being totaled to show your new position in the next life as a demon. Most humans wound up becoming Coal Tars, though Rin was an admittedly special case.

“‘Wasn’t... _trying_ t-to,” Rin manages to get out, the shudders wracking his frame preventing him from saying more.

Amaimon tilts his head in the other direction. “You wanted to go to the other place? Sorry, but that’s off-limits to demons like us.”

Rin shakes his head minutely, but doesn’t bother trying to explain that it wasn’t _suicide_ he was just dying because _holy water is secretly evil and out to get him._

Rin wishes he had the energy to tell Amaimon to go fuck himself.

Cold hands prod at the worst of his wounds, making him whine in pain and struggle to put distance between them. He wished Yukio was there. Hell, he’d take _Shura_ at this point. Anyone was better than Amaimon.

Said king paused at the noise. The hell kind of sound was _that_? He prods at Rin’s abused skin again, looking befuddled. It was oddly _endearing_. A strange feeling welled in his chest, one that was usually reserved for Mephisto.

Intrigued, Amaimon abruptly grips Rin’s throat in one hand and drags him up.

Startled, Rin’s gasp is silenced by the suffocating grip on his throat.

“So if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Amaimon questions, peering into Rin’s unseeing eyes. He’d be lying if he wasn’t a little curious. “Was it an exorcist? Your brother, perhaps? Or...one of your classmates?”

Rin’s twitch was his only answer.

“Oh? They’re trying to kill you. Not surprising, humans really do hate demons.”

It was an accident! Rin wanted to scream. Konekomaru hadn’t meant it. He didn’t know the shelf would break, didn’t know the holy water would hurt him that badly.

_Are you sure?_

Rin freezes.

_He knew that shelf would break easily. Everyone knew it. He shoved you on **purpose**._

Amaimon drags him closer.

_They hate you. You’re a demon, of course they do. You knew that the moment they found out they would hate you._

Rin wants to cry. Hadn’t he proved himself to them, yet? Hadn’t he tried, over and over, to prove that he wasn’t bad, wasn’t evil like all the others said he was?

“What are you upset about?” Amaimon sneers, “You knew something like this would happen eventually. You’re surrounded by trigger-happy exorcists, so why are you _cr_ _ying_?”

Rin lets out a little sob, taking a hold of Amaimon's shirt. He was torn between wanting to sock him in the jaw and wanting to hide himself in his frayed cloak, hands shaking.

When Amaimon releases him, curiosity abated, Rin uses him as a prop to hold himself up. Too weak to do anything else, his head drops onto Amaimon’s chest as he keens, his soft hiccups and sobs the only noise in the dark room.

The King of Earth is baffled. He was not well known for being kind--so why was the younger seeking comfort from him? Rin should be attacking him with all his might--whatever thats left of it, that is. He had threatened his well-being. But no, the younger had decided that staining his tie with salt-water was a better idea. He was wrinkling the king’s shirt in his fists.

How... _promiscuous_. Could Rin be...flirting?  How utterly depraved. To be so close to another demon in such a frail, non-threatening manner….

Amaimon was a little intrigued. He wondered about the girl Rin had so desperately tried to save before. A little cautionary sniff said that no, Rin had no other scents on him. They hadn’t been together. Had Rin fallen for him instead? His display of power _had_ been over the top, he remembers. Rin might've thought he was making a courtly display, and had been offended by the distinct lack of forewarning, hence the later fight. Oh dear.

He shakes himself. What was he thinking? He came to kill the halfling, not initiate a courtship. Besides, the idiot had no idea what he was doing--he still had his tail out, after all. Like a _ruffian_.

Rin finally collapses, unable to hold himself up even with unwilling assistance.

Unthinking, Amaimon tries to catch him, and simply ends up falling to the ground as well, Rin settled in his lap.

This was….hm. Rather nice, actually. Rins head was nestled on his shoulder, drooping from weariness. He was pleasantly warm, despite being thoroughly soaked.

“You’re really so... _very_ sad, aren't you?” Amaimon sighs, resigned.

Rin tries to look at him, squinting painfully through his red tinged vision.

“ _Pathetic_ ,” the king sighs fondly, using the pads of his fingers to pry tired eyes open. Rin doesn’t struggle when the other’s tongue traces the red sclera and damaged pupils, only weakly clawing at his shirt as he squirmed in his lap to fight down the strange feeling that accompanied it. Amaimon does the same to the other, and soon Rins vision is cleared--perhaps even a bit better than before. “You make me sad, little brother.”

Rin is quiet, trying to stop his muffled hiccups.

Amaimon lets him nuzzle into his cloak, absently watching as his skin slowly heals. The Devil’s Root potion had done its job; the holy water was tainted, and Rin was free to recover at his own pace.

“Humans are so _cruel_ , don’t you think?” Amaimon buries his nose into Rin’s hair, enjoying the scent. The younger smelled like a bonfire, one that had been made with vast amounts of wet logs and lighter fluid. “Why won’t you join us in Gehenna? You’d be much happier there.” It was true; Rin was the high prince, after all. He'd inherit hell one day.

Rin shakes his head wearily. He’s not sure what caused the sudden turn in Amaimon’s attitude, but he wasn’t about to question it. He couldn’t escape the elder demon’s grip, but he’s safe in the notion that if Amaimon hadn’t killed him yet, he probably wouldn’t any time soon.

Amaimon lets out a little hum, dissatisfied. He should’ve known it wouldn't be that easy to coerce him. He sighs, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of Rin's head. Humans did that to comfort one another; he saw it on Mephisto's TV, though in their culture it was something more... _romantic_.

He wondered if Rin even knew.

Amaimon lets him fall asleep, absently stroking newly formed skin with the flats of his nails. Rin healed remarkably fast, even for a demon, and he marveled at his ability to bounce back so quickly from near fatal wounds.

He gives it some thought. He was sure that perhaps, given some time, he could grow to like Rin. Courtships took weeks, even months or longer depending on the complexity; perhaps he could….

He imagines Rin alongside him, blue eyes shining, enveloped in fire.

Amaimon gives a small huff of laughter. He would make Rin his bride if it _killed_ him

“...must be here….you look over there….”

Pointed ears twitched. He had been found!

Amaimon regrets breaking through Mephistos barrier in a fit of pique a few hours ago. To be fair, the elder brother _had_ locked him out, though on purpose or not had yet to be seen.

Mindful of the footsteps that were rapidly following the gory trail left behind by Rin not too long ago, Amaimon gathers Rin into his arms. He could take Rin with him to Gehenna, get father’s blessing, and be back by Halloween.

The door to the communal showers is violently thrown open by not just one, but _two_ exorcists.

Amaimon eyes them curiously. This is not the search party who had been after him before.

“You…” Yukio grits his teeth and draws his gun, “Put him _down_!”

Rin doesn't even twitch, which the king of earth takes as a good sign.

“What am I doing?” he echoes, only vaguely aware of his own absurdity. “Why, _molesting_ him, of course.”

Yukio stares at him, frozen in shock, and Amaimon is abruptly reminded of the fact that the word molesting has….a double-meaning, in this day and age.

Shura, who had been behind the other, abruptly ducks around, sword drawn, and runs at Amaimon with an enraged snarl.

He is forced against the window rather quickly. The room is only so big, so when Shura’s blade barely misses his shoulder he has no choice but to release Rin and run, avoiding speeding bullets and angry curses.

Yukio doesn’t stop firing at him until he’s well out of sight.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm telling you, Rin. That's what he said!"

 

"Sounds like a load of crap to me." Rin grouses, looking slightly red in the face. It's been a few days since _the_ _incident_ and he had fully recovered, his skin as clear as it had been before. He didn't remember what exactly had happened once Amaimon had appeared, but Yukio was being utterly ridiculous.

 

"And why the hell am I under _double_ _surveillance_?"

 

Shura, who was a few paces behind looking murderous, brightened considerably. "To scare him off, if course!"

 

Not too far off the mark, Rin admitted to himself grudgingly. Her sword was out and slashing at anything that so much as _breathed_ in their general direction, and she sometimes disappeared, only to reappear hassling some poor youth on their way to class, thinking them Amaimon in disguise.

 

"It's for your own protection, Rin." Yukio sighs, looking briefly sympathetic. Then, his voice low and eyes bright, " _I won't let him lay a finger on you_."

 

Rin was touched. Mildly offended that Yukio didn't trust him to take care of himself, sure, but mostly touched. It had been awhile since he'd seen _that_ side of the other.

 

Returning to training was as much as a bore as he thought it would be. He couldn't light the candles properly, even after a fresh start. He was still too careless with his power, and he didn't entirely blame Konekomaru for his fear. Rin was a little afraid himself.

 

Only Shiemi had been by to visit him during his recovery, though Yukio had assured him the rest of the class enquired about his health from time to time. Rin felt a little _betrayed_. Surely at least Bon would've come to visit, even if it was just to yell. He thought that he had been getting along with Izumi, too...

 

After awhile, his flames are too weak to light the wicks. He stares at them, quiet, shoulders drooping. He doesn't notice the molten wax leaking onto his fingers, ignoring the mild pain. He had just made friends--how could he lose them so soon?

 

Yukio eyes his brother from where he had been using the shooting range nearby. Shura does the same, concern glinting in her eyes.

 

"I think he's getting depressed." Yukio murmurs, not taking his eyes off his wilting brother. He had seen this happen before--in grade school, after Rin had first been rejected and isolated from their class, and shortly after their father's death. It was a concerning sight to see.

 

Shura nods and, putting her snake sword away, leaps.

 

Rin's terrified screech makes Yukio's ears ring, but he's glad to hear the other start laughing when Shura assaults him with niggling fingers and mad cackles.

 

Returning home is a simple affair. Rin leads the way, distinctly avoiding any routes that may cross paths with those from cram school. He doesn't want to see them until he's sure he can control his power--he doesn't want to see the wariness in their eyes anymore.

 

Rin shoves his hands into his pockets unhappily, and is surprised when his fingers run into a little square box, not much bigger than the palm of his hand.

 

"Rin! I've been summoned for a mission."

 

Startled, Rin shoved the box deeper into his pocket, twirling around to face his brother, who had been talking with a grey-faced old man.

 

"I'm going to have to need you to stay inside today." Yukio fixes him with a stern look. "Shura is going to make a protective circle around the house to ward off any high class demons, so stay there so you're protected, all right?"

 

Rin lets out a long groan at the same time as his newly christened protector. " _Fine_. Just come back in time for dinner."

 

"Of course," Yukio nods. He's off without another word, and Rin can't stop the little pinprick of jealousy that follows.

 

Shura stays outside, making odd symbols on the ground with chalk and whining about her boredom. It's not long until Rin gets tired of it and heads in to get her one of the many beers she has stowed away in their kitchen.

 

It's almost eerily quiet inside without Yukio. The darkness reminds him of what had happened not too long ago, so Rin flicks on the lights as he heads towards the kitchen, feeling mournful.

 

Ukobach eyes him curiously when he enters, the familiar having already started preparations for that night's dinner. Rin is a little disappointed to realize that it was easier for him to make friends with demons rather than humans.

 

He manages a smile anyway. "Hey, can you keep a secret?"

 

Ukobach seems to think it over before shaking his head.

 

"Figured as much." Rin rifles through the fridge, ignoring spare ingredients in favor of the rotten smelling liquid Shura required, feeling a little bitter himself. He wished he could drink it, too.

 

Yukio doesn't make it home in time for dinner. Rin tries to make up for it with Shura and Ukobach, though it was difficult when one was drunk and the other didn't talk that much.

 

Eventually Rin retires to his room, forgoing his homework in favor of playing with Kuro.

 

"Hey, what's this?" The cat demon swipes at Rin's pocket. "It smells funny."

 

Rin abruptly remembers the little box, pulling it out to stare.

 

The box is light, wrapped in shiny, green paper with a matching bow. He...doesn't remember ever seeing it before.

 

"A present!" Kuro tries to swat at it again, this time with claws out. "Open it! i want to see!"

 

"Okay, okay!" Curiously, Rin unwraps it. Under the paper the box was wooden with strange runes carved in.

 

"Ooooh," Kuro's eyes glitter. "A proposal!"

 

"A _what_."

 

"And not just _any_ proposal," Kuro practically purrs, eyeing the markings with interest, "a _courtship_ proposal!"

 

" _What_." Rin's voice cracks. _Courtship_? Wasn't that a little medieval? He tells this to his familiar, who affirms that yeah, it is, but it's _demonic_ _tradition_.

 

Rin leans heavily on the wall by his bed, shocked. A courtship. Someone was in love, with him! He couldn't wrap his head around it. Girls were always going after _Yukio_ , not him. And guys...just tended to view Rin as a punching bag that occasionally hit back.

 

Rin folds his legs, feeling his face heat up. Should he accept?

 

Wait. _He didn't even know who gave it to him_.

 

Rin gives it a thorough look-over, but finds no name. Sniffing it gives him no indication of who it is from either, though the scent reminds him of tree bark and soil.

 

Kuro demands that he opens it.

 

Shaking hands pry the box apart, revealing a small, glittering stone.

 

"Whuh?" The unelegant noise erupts from Rin's throat unbidden. He holds the little gem up to the light, admiring the small ropes of red mingled amongst shards of black and violet. It gives off an eerie glow, casting red light onto his pale fingers.

 

Kuro gasps loudly. "A _blood_ _opal_!"

 

Rin pauses. That sounds kind of... _bad_.

 

The cat demon looks between Rin and the gem excitedly. "Don't you get it? Only _high_ _ranking_ demons can get those!"

 

"Kuro," Rin says blankley, a suspicious feeling creeping up his spine, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I literally _don't know anything about demons_. At all."

 

Yukio's words ring in his head. _He was going to molest you!_

 

Is that what demons _do_? No, wait, Yukio was just over reacting, like he always did. There must've been some sort of misunderstanding. Not for the first time Rin curses his foggy memory--all he could remember was that god-awful pain.

 

A card falls out of the opened box, signed with a strange circle with a crown on top. Theres a cross through the middle, and not even Kuro knows that one.

 

Rin has a feeling he knows who, though he dreads to think he's right.

 

"Are you gonna accept?" Kuro asks, watching the other demon hide the gem in his pillowcase.

 

"We don't know who it is, Kuro." Rin firmly ignores the yes, you do, that creeps into the back of his mind.

 

"Well, yeah, but come on. A _high ranking demon_! You're set for life!"

 

"That's a _terrible_ reason to date someone."

 

"People do it all the time."

 

"Yeah well, maybe I wanna get to know someone before jumping into a relationship with them!" Suddenly angry, Rin flops onto his bed and curls up on his side, red to the tips of his pointed ears.

 

"...is that why you're single?"

 

Rin chucks a spare pillow at him with an indignant shriek.

 

\--

He dreams of burning. He's lying in a bed of ash, watching his own skin crack and blister, unable to move.

 

It hurts, more than anything he's ever felt.

 

" _You're really so...very sad, aren't you_?"

 

Cool hands banish the ash and chase away the scent of carbon and burnt flesh, leeching the warmth from his skin.

 

"Amai...?" His breath hitched as long nails warningly traced the outline of his jaw.

 

He could imagine those claws tearing into his skin easily, leaving long scars down his back, across his stomach, down his hips. The terrifying thing was that he wanted it.

 

" _Do you accept_?" A delicate kiss ghosted across his lips. " ** _Do you_**?"

\--

 

Saturday morning rolls in peacefully enough, bringing with it the promise of a peaceful summer day, with a slight chance of clouds later on in the afternoon. The humidity is low and the temperature is high, making it a perfect day for relaxing outdoors.

 

Rin knows this before he wakes up, because Kuro is repeating everything the weatherman on the radio says in joyful tones, like he does _every_ Saturday morning.

 

That dream...had that been a memory? It had felt so real, and Amaimon's voice had been so close.

 

Getting dressed and brushing his fanged teeth in a sleepy haze, Rin follows the cat demon down the stairs on his way to the kitchen.

 

Shura waves at him lazily from where she's leaning on the countertop. Rin is happy to note that Yukio is by her side, nursing a mug of coffee and looking unforgiving. He glares at Shura every now and again, mostly because she keeps sneaking suspicious liquids in his cup when he wasn't looking.

 

"G'morning," Rin yawns, gratefully accepting a plate of crepes from Ukobach.

 

"Good morning," Yukio greets, relaxing a fraction. "How are you feeling today?"

 

Rin thinks of the blood opal, hidden in his pillow.

 

"Fine. How'd your mission go?"

 

Yukio frowns deeply. "We're not sure how, but there's been a breach in one of the wards on the outskirts of town. Something big must've made it's way through, but we don't know what yet. We only know because of all the low level demons that kept getting through."

 

"That's weird," Rin mumbles into his fork. He thinks of Amaimon--surly he was strong enough to break in. The title King of Earth wasn't just for show, after all.

 

He shakes his head. He still wasn't sure. It could've been any demon--the university was a hot spot for demon activity. Things were trying to break in all the time, it's not like Amaimon broke the seal just to...

 

"Uh," Rin starts.

 

"Yes? Have you remembered anything?" Yukio leans forward excitedly.

 

"Er, no." Rin scuffs his bare feet along the floor awkwardly. "I just remembered that I have a, uh, errand. To run."

 

"You're not going anywhere until the thing that broke in was captured." Shura shakes her head. _If it is the King of Earth_ , she thinks, eyes narrowed, _then Rin is in danger just looking out the window._ Rin was her responsibility; she wasn't going to lose him to some crack-pot child molester.

 

The old man would never forgive her.

 

"But it'll only take, like, an _hour_." Seeing their disbelieving looks, Rin hurries to explain. "And seriously, I'm not _weak_. I can take care of myself."

 

"Whatever it is, I'll do it for you." Yukio offers, adjusting his glasses. "You absolutely _cannot_ leave the house until the threat is gone." He refused to back down. He'd protect his brother even if it _killed_ him.

 

"No, dude, look, it's _fine_. I'll be right back!"

 

"We'll come with you, then." Shura nudges Yukio expectantly. She would go stir crazy staying in one place; it's little wonder Rin wanted out of the house.  She's a little surprised at the violent _no_ she receives in reply.

 

Yukio gives his brother a shrewd look. "Okay, Rin. What's this all about?"

 

Rin grinds his teeth. There's no way he could tell them that he _wanted_ to find Amaimon. He had to know if it was really him who had sent the opal, and if it was...well, he'd figure it out on the way.  " _Fuck_ , okay, fine...I...I want to go to the _library_."

 

The perfect alibi.

 

Or at least, it _would've_ been, if not for the fact that Shura had started laughing hysterically.

 

"Seriously, brat. What is it?"

 

"That...that's it." Rin tries to swallow the lump that had abruptly formed in his throat. He'd been in the library loads of times, even if it was mostly to hide from brawls and to skip class undisturbed. Why was it so unbelievable? "I just have to go get a -- _would you stop laughing I'm being serious_!"

 

Yukio has a strange look in his eye. "Are you...finally starting to _study_?" Under his sheer disbelief the younger feels elated. Rin was finally starting to take his classes seriously! Sure, he was a little late, but maybe Rin was just a late bloomer--something their father had insinuated to him on many occasions.

 

Rin's face is rapidly turning red, though from embarrassment or rage Yukio couldn't really tell. "... _maybe_."

 

Yukio's face softens a bit.

 

"You can't go there alone, but whatever book you need we can go get for you."

 

Rin's mouth tugged into a frown, knowing he couldn't win. Yukio was being oddly stubborn this time around, and the elder was left wondering, not for the first time, when he had grown a backbone. "It's...a lot. Of books." He mentally cringed. Yukio would make sure to quiz him later, he was sure of it.

 

"Write them down on a list and we'll get them." Yukio hummed serenely. "You'll be safe in the circle Shura made last night, so stay inside while we're gone."

 

Said exorcist waves a warning finger under Rin's nose. "I have to send in my weekly report, so if you're not here when I come back I will literally _rip your balls off_."

 

"Yeah, yeah, mom." Rin groused grudgingly, cringing at the thought. Regardless, he was already planning his escape.

 

Not more than five minutes later they were out the door and heading down the street, Their warning to stay inside going right over his head. He waves at them until they're well out of sight.

 

Five minutes after that Rin was running gleefully in the opposite direction entirely, all on his own with nothing to lose.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A super short chapter from Amaimon's point of view, because the next one is pretty much a few bits from being done. Two chapters in one week~~ my apology for the delay!

Demonic courtships were ancient rituals, well-known and frequently practiced amongst the high-class demons. For the most part, aside from showing loyalty to one another, the ritual shows dedication and desire for each other. It was created by none other than--

 

"Brother dearest," Mephisto drawls, leaning out of his office window to peer down at the King of Earth, "could you tell me why you're _hiding_ in my _belfry_?"

 

Said demon peered out from where he'd been hiding in the golden bell, looking mildly miffed. It was close to three in the morning on a Friday, and he had been hiding for quite awhile. "Your exorcists are _mean_ , brother."

 

Mephisto waves him into his office, one thin brow raised. "I _did_ tell you not to go around sight-seeing. You tend to be a little bit..." He paused, eyes narrowed at the various greens of his brother's suit, "... _obtrusive_. Have you tried looking like you _weren't_ spat up by a cheap halloween store?"

 

Amaimon ignores the jab, choosing instead to lounge on Mephisto's desk, crinkling important documents in the process. He steeples his fingers and waits, knowing that  the other’s curious nature would get the best of him.

 

"...alright, what is it?" Mephisto sighs, closing the window and drawing the curtains. He didn't need anyone to see him accommodating other demons--especially ones that broke through the outer barriers as if they were paper.

 

"Well," Amaimon begins, feeling smug, "I have initiated a courtship. With Rin."

 

Mephisto freezes, hands fisted in the red cloth curtains. "That is... _not_ part of the plan, Amaimon." He could feel a migraine growing already. All of his careful plans, built over the last couple of hundred years...

 

"Don't worry, he won't go to Gehenna with me." Amaimon nibbles on his nails, feeling a bit put out. He'd have to transfer his estate to Assiah; his servants, his titles, his odd collection of Earth rocks...what an utter _pain_. "He loves Assiah."

 

"Does he love _you_?" Mephisto is having a hard time imagining it. The two had been fighting quite a bit not too long ago, after all. Not to mention... "Don't humans have strange customs when it comes to _not_ marrying their cousins?"

 

"I'm not his cousin," Amaimon supplies helpfully. "I'm his _half-brother_."

 

"... _right_." The elder demon rubs his eyes, sitting heavily in his chair. Everything was _ruined_. His plan, his _entertainment…_.although. Mephisto considers his younger brother--his _favoured_ brother--a reckless demon whose boredom tended to interfere with any and all plans the other had. "And Rin...?"

 

"He will."

 

"Your confidence knows no bounds." Mephisto folds his arms grudgingly. Inside, he was grinning fit to put the Cheshire Cat to shame. _This could prove to be very entertaining indeed_. "If you really _are_ going to sabotage father's plans, you better make sure you send him an apology card." He pauses, thinking. "...and I get to be the wedding planner."

 

Amaimon gives it some thought. "...deal."

 

"Then you have my 'blessing'. Do you have his...? Ah, there we are." Mephisto accepts the small vial of Rin's blood.

 

The first step of every demonic ritual was simple. Once the coupling had the blessing of another demon, they could combine their blood to form a blood opal--a dark stone that protected the holder from unwanted advances of others.

 

Amaimon accepts the gem, examining it thoroughly in the light. Per usual, Mephisto's work was flawless--this wasn't the first time he'd been requested for a blessing, after all. The black light was a precious warning; anyone who interfered with the courtship would be _burned_.

 

"How do you plan on giving to him?" Mephisto leans his head on one hand, eyes glinting. "You're going to have to be clever. Although, he _is_ half human, so you may need to be a little blunt."

 

Amaimon nods, mulling it over. Rin didn't know anything about demons--being raised as a human left him ignorant to his own culture. Something that manages both to irk Amaimon and sadden him.

 

He wished he could grind that _dead priest_ into dust.

 

"I'll hide it in his _pocket_."

 

\--

 

Trying to deliver the opal was an affair, to say the least.

 

Yukio and Shura were constantly crowding Rin. They followed him everywhere--from school buildings and classrooms to the toilet. It was utterly _aggravating_.

 

Eventually Amaimon had to summon his _dark powers from beyond the gate_ to shrink down his behemoth. The affectionate mutt was more than happy to sneak the opal into Rin's pocket unseen, and Amaimon counted it as a job well done when Rin notices the box but doesn't pull it out in front of his psuedo-guardians. _An acceptance_!

 

Amaimon returns to Mephisto's office, triumphant.

 

"Oho? So he really _is_ interested." Mephisto puts his book down-- _The Science Behind Exorcisms_ , by Knott A. Gott. "Good for you, Amaimon."

 

Said king gave an exaggerated bow, radiating delight. "There is but one problem, brother, and I think you could help."

 

Mephisto inclined his head amiably. "Go on."

 

"I need Rin alone. Could you do something about those two exorcists that are always following him around?"

 

"Yukio and Shura?" The headmaster shook his head, frowning. "No can do, I'm afraid. They wouldn't leave his side even if I ordered them to.” He pauses, considering. Perhaps if he could stir up a bit of trouble…? No, the order would have his head. Those sneaky bastards knew almost his every move.

 

“Also, you should probably know your half...brother-in-law's name."

 

"Shura?" Amaimon considered it. "I don't like him."

 

" _Yukio_."

 

"Gesundheit."

 

Mephisto inhaled deeply.

 

"...I'm kidding, brother. I know who you mean."

 

"You'd _better_. I won't be responsible for it when he crashes the wedding claiming you to be a _defiler_ of all that is holy."

 

Amaimon cringed, hoping Mephisto is kidding. Yukio had already shot him on numerous occasions. He was still recovering from the last shot that hit his lower back--he had a vague  idea of where the bullet had meant to go, and he very much didn’t want it to hit it’s mark.

 


	4. Chapter 4

One would think that finding a high level demon would be easy.

 

Sadly this wasn't the case. Rin spends close to an hour running about town trying to find the demonic prince, dashing down alleyways and avoiding exorcists who would recognize him. It wasn't easy, and he nearly runs into Yukio, who was busy trying to find all the books on Rin's list--most of which had been made up.

 

Admitting defeat wasn't something Rin liked to do, but under the hot sun he has to at least take a break, sitting against one of the many golden Mephisto statues that served as landmarks. They typically pointed the way to the school, although at least one pointed in the wrong direction on any given day.

 

As Rin wonders how long it'll take for his brother to realize the list is a fraud, a hand reaches down and prods his cheek.

 

" _Oh god what the_ \--!" Scrambling away from the statue and raising his fists, Rin pauses upon seeing the familiar figure of Amaimon waving down at him. "I found you!"

 

Amaimon bows politely before swinging so that he was hanging upside down from the statues outstretched arm. "More like _I_ found _you_."

 

Rin scowls deeply.

 

"...that's quite the face you're making."

 

"Knock it off!" Rin fishes out the blood opal from his pocket. "Did _you_ send this to me?"

 

"That's no way to speak to your betrothed." Amiamon tuts, swinging the rest of the way to the ground. He wonders what he did wrong. Rin seemed upset--perhaps there was a flaw in the pearl he hadn't noticed. If his behemoth had broken it during the delivery...

 

"My _what_ now." Rin chokes out. "No. Absolutely not."

 

Amaimon is a little alarmed. The venomous denial threw him for a loop. The pearl _had_ been flawed. He fucked up. He fucked up _bad_. Rin had every right to be upset. Hell, _Amaimon_ would be upset if anyone dared offer him a faulty pearl.

 

Botched courting attempts tended to result in murder. Offending demons is the _worst_ thing a person could do, and the slaughter that followed tended to be gruesome. Amaimon clenches his fists--there was no going back now, he'd take the beating like a demon... and probably die in the process.

 

"For one thing, I _barely know you_." Rin continues irritably, ignorant to Amaimon's inner panic. He considers the other demon; oddly handsome in his shades of green and odd patterns. Then, weakly, "can't we just... I dunno, start with a _date_?"

 

Amaimon relaxes a fraction. _Forgiveness_. He'd get Rin a new pearl, one bigger and better than its predecessor. He pauses as Rin's words catch up with him. A date?

 

From what he knew, dates varied widely. Rin could mean a formal date or a casual one. Amaimon wishes he knew more about human culture--Mephisto probably knew all about it. He'd been in Assiah the longest, he knew all about humans.

 

Rin's blush was distractingly cute. It spread from his cheeks to the tips of his pointed ears in delightful hues of pink.

 

"Fair enough,"  Amaimon agrees, "what do humans do on dates?"

 

"Uh....dinner and a movie?" _I think_. Rin curses his lack of experience. "Or....a...walk. On the beach."

 

"You don't actually know, do you."

 

"Shut _up_ I've been on plenty of dates!" Rin crosses his arms, feeling sour.

 

Amaimon blinks at him, getting the feeling like this may be a bit more difficult than he expected.

 

"Alright," Amaimon hums. "Sure you have."

 

Rin huffs and turns his nose up indignantly. If Amaimon was going to be _difficult_ \--!

 

Amaimon hooks his claws in the loops of Rin's jeans and drags him over, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

 

Rin’s blush spreads violently. Chest to chest, Amaimon was nearly a half head taller than he was. He followed the curve of Rin’s spine easily as if he was made for it, not even an inch away, his breath mingling, eyes dark.

 

“ _Okay_ ,” Rin’s voice cracks, feeling his body flush in delight. Amaimon’s possessive grip both offended and aroused him, and in his resulting confusion he hadn’t noticed Amaimon slipping his arms around him until it was a little too late.

 

Rin was abruptly wrenched into the air, hooked securely in the crook of Amaimon’s arms as the demon king _jumped_ , sending the both of them high into the air and towards the main campus office building.

 

“ _What the actual fuck is wrong with you_?!” his hysterical screech was drowned out by the rushing wind as they flew across rooftops in a strange form of parkour.

 

“You said you wanted to go on a date,” Amaimon lets out a brief huff of laughter. “I have an idea.” Landing on the highest tower on the island would’ve been easier if Rin would’ve stopped squirming.

 

Rin makes a strangled noise and presses close to the wall of the tower balcony the moment Amaimon lets go. “Well... _warn_ me next time!” He pauses, eyeing the large crate that was leaning against the railing. “What’s that for?”

 

Amaimon grins, fangs glinting. “You’ll see.”

 

\--

 

When Rin had asked Yukio for a mountain of books, he was as pleased as a punch. The most he had seen Rin do with a book is use it as firewood--their priestly father had despaired at the sudden disappearance of his collection of old bibles, but no one wanted to tell him that Rin had used the pages to take fire from candles in order to make a campfire outside, nearly burning down the entire church in the process.

 

The trip to the library was uneventful; the weather was nice and people went about on their daily business. Yukio, realizing that Rin was probably bored out of his mind inside, considers getting him something to keep his mind off of it.

 

Idly browsing the towering shelves of the library, the young exorcist wonders at the list in his hand. Most of these books he’d never even _heard_ of.

 

_Rin must really be working hard_ , Yukio thinks fondly, pulling several books from the shelf. _I feel a bit bad for being so hard on him._

 

He manages to find about half of the books on Rin's hastily scribbled list. Several more he found in the bookstore on the other side of town, leaving just one left.

 

Asking the store owner yields no answers, and he's left pondering where in the world _The Science of Exorcisms_ by Knott A. Gott could be found.

 

"Maybe it's an advanced book?" Yukio mumbles to himself as he boards the tram towards Mephisto's office. " _He_ would know something about it..."

 

Mephisto did, in fact, know something about it.

 

"Yes, it's a part of my personal collection. Why ever would you want a book as unconventional as that one, though?" The principal of True Cross Academy leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on his lap. He was a bit surprised; he rarely received visits from the younger Okumura brother.

 

"Rin wanted it," Yukio shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Mephisto's leer rubbed him the wrong way--he hated to be on the receiving end of it.

 

" _Really_?" Mephisto grins, looking amused. Almost as if he knew something Yukio didn't.

 

Yukio nodded, trying not to bristle. "He's working hard on his studies, sir."

 

Mephisto stands, moving over to his bookcase in the corner of the room, hiding his laughter.  "So I'm sure." He hums, fingers absently tracing the faded words on the covers and spines of his collection. "Now, I'm sure you know this, but this book is very rare; there are only two in existence."

 

"Ah, Is that so...?" The young exorcist eyes the other warily as he approaches. He's not sure why, but he always had the feeling Mephisto was _up_ to something, as if he had a grand plan and everyone just played along.

 

Mephisto holds it out to the other before abruptly holding it back when he reaches for it. "As such, I would like you to do something for me."

 

_Of course_ , Yukio thinks despairingly, _it could never be **that** easy_. Rin had better be grateful.

 

"Yes, sir?"

 

"Stop calling me 'sir'," Mephisto smiles, reaching over to playfully tap Yukio on the head with the spine of the book. "We _are_ family, after all."

 

Yukio blinks rapidly, a little confused. He hadn't really considered Mephisto to be much more than a neglectful caretaker. Seeing him as family was a bit...weird.

 

In the evening light streaming from the window behind him, Mephisto's genial smile seemed soft, almost _caring_ in a way he would never expect to see--something that reminded him, just faintly, of his father.

 

"Oh," Yukio lets out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He smiles back, a little unsure, and accepts the proffered book. "Thank you, Mephisto."

 

The violent explosion of colour right outside the window took him by surprise. He shoots up out of his seat at the same time Mephisto moves forward. They knock into each other in their surprise and fall to the ground in an ungainly tangle of flailing limbs as the window glass shatters, allowing sparks of coloured light to fly in.

 

"What the _hell_ -!" Yukio's voice is muffled by Mephisto's white cloak. He flinches as something flies into the room and explodes on the chair he had been sitting in, singing the arm he had thrown up to protect himself.

 

Mephisto manages to lift a leg and kick the flaming chair away, trying to untangle himself at the same time. His amused huff of laughter is right next to Yukio's ear. "Oh, dear. Are you quite alright?"

 

The younger can't stop the shudder that crawls down his spine. "F-fine! Are we under attack?"

 

The shriek of more projectiles could be heard outside. "...not on purpose." The muffled laughter in Mephisto's words wasn't comforting in the slightest.

 

\--

 

Rin's laughter is as uplifting as it is obnoxious. Amaimon could easily get used to the sound of it, just as he could easily get used to Rin leaning on him in the throes of his cackling.

 

"Where did you even get all these?!" _These_ being the crate of fireworks Amaimon had found that morning, hidden in Mephisto's closet.

 

"A friend," the king of earth hums, filling two chalices full of black wine. He hands one to Rin, who abruptly looks a bit apprehensive. He vaguely wonders why--surely he’s had this, at least?

 

“I’m underage,” Rin says by way of explanation, sniffing at the liquid curiously.

 

Amaimon tries not to grind his teeth. Black wine was commonly used in demonic celebrations and traditions. Made from ingredients that could only be found and made in Gehenna, it was every demon’s favourite-- a reminder of home and safety, compared to the bitterness of the red and white wines of Assiah.

 

Rin had never had it, never tasted the comfort of his heritage.

 

It pissed Amaimon off to high hades. How could that _priest_ deny him such a simple rite?

 

“Demon’s don’t have age limits,” he says in reply, wondering if there was a way to bring back the dead. “Try it, at least.”

 

The black wine is warm and tastes like a sweetness that Rin couldn't match, reminding him of something not quite there. Heat flooded through his body in a comforting embrace, and he lets out a sigh that relieves all the tension from his shoulders. “This is _good_.”

 

Amaimon smiles winningly. _Only for you_ , he thinks fondly, pressing a delicate kiss to Rin’s temple.

 

Rin smiles into his cup, face flushed, absently tracing the intricate designs, he’s reminded that Amaimon was a _high class_ demon...somehow.

 

“Hey….what’s Gehenna like?” Interested, Rin props his head on Amaimon’s shoulder to view him properly, eyes bright.

 

Amaimon gave it some thought. “Well, it’s dark most of the time. When the summer fog rolls in you can’t see much of anything, but when you can it’s very pretty.” He thinks of the dry violet wasteland, the reflective pools of black water and the dark forests that border his home on the other side, and is filled with homesickness.

 

Rin tries to imagine it. “I...kind of want to see it. Just once.”

 

“Oh?” Amaimon hums, occupying his ailing heart with thoughts of Rin. Rin, touring Gehenna, meeting the rest of their family, staying at his estate...He smiles, then, reaching for another rocket.  “Just say when.”

 

Rin watches him fiddle with the match before he leans over, hooks one arm around Amaimon’s waist, and whispers into his pointed ear “ _When_.”

 

The rocket takes off, hitting the railing and bouncing off, careening right into Mephisto’s window.

 

“Wh-- _now?_!” The King of Earth splutters, turning varying shades of scarlet. He drops the lit match onto the rocket beside him, which also flies off with a terrible screech.

 

It flies right into Mephisto’s office, and he _knows_ he’s going to be in trouble for that one.

 

Rin laughs, reaching over for another. “No, but...soon, maybe.” With a graceful swing he sends the little rocket flying into the air, watching it explode into dozens of multicoloured sparks.

 

Amaimon admires the coloured lights that illuminate Rin’s face, feeling his smile grow.

 

“Would who ever is setting off fireworks please _cease and desist,_ preferably before I _call in the exorcists._ ”

 

The two trouble-makers flinch, peering around their tower to look at Mephisto’s window. The Principal himself was giving them a dark look, his singed cape keeping them from seeing the disaster that was undoubtedly inside.

 

Amaimon snickers.

 

When Mephisto starts counting down in German they make a break for it, cackling like children escaping detention.

 

They’re still laughing when they touch down in front of Rin’s dorm, leaning on each other. Amaimon stops just outside of the barrier, looking almost apologetic.

 

“Oh, right. Shura’s circle.” Rin frowns at it, as if it had personally offended him. “Where are you staying, anyway? Are you going back to Gehenna?”

 

“I’m staying with my brother while I’m in Assiah,” Amaimon grimaces. “He’s not going to be pleased with me when I get back.”

 

Rin thinks of Yukio, who had probably figured out by now that the list was a ruse. “...mine won’t be either, heh.”

 

Looking up at Amaimon--His boyfriend? They were dating now, that was definitely happening--Rin is caught by his dark green eyes, the gentle curve of his jaw, and the pull of his smiling mouth.

 

“Rin?” Amaimon catches his gaze curiously, and Rin can’t stop himself from lurching forward to press their lips together, fisting Amaimon’s shirt in his hands to bring him closer.

 

Amaimon was content to let him, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue making a swipe at Rin’s lower lip. Rin let him in, letting Amaimon guide him with his tongue, utterly inexperienced yet somehow completely endearing in his naiveté.

 

Amaimon drags him ever closer, tasting his mouth, carding his nails through Rin’s coarse hair.

 

When they pull apart, red in the face, breaths laboured, Rin seems almost embarrassed at his sudden action.  Amaimon tries to subtly untangle his fingers from the mess he had made of Rin’s hair, letting out a brief snort of laughter.

 

After a moment, Rin joins him, giggling as he tries to help the other untangle his hair.

 

From inside the house, Shura eyes them, the death grip on her sword loosening somewhat.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some trouble with this one, but here it is! The next one may be awhile longer, since exams are coming up. We'll see, I guess!

 

When Fujimoto had warned Shura of the dangers of training Rin to be a master swordsman, this was not one of them.

 

For one thing she expected the kid to be _older_ ; not sneaking out with his secret boyfriend like the childish teenager that he was. She also never expected him to be completely ignorant about demons--Shiro could’ve at least taught him _something_ about defending himself against his own kind.

 

 _It’s no wonder Amaimon managed to seduce him_ , she thinks unhappily as she peers down at them from a third floor window. _He probably knows Rin better than he does himself._

 

As Rin says his goodbyes, Shura ponders on just what she’s supposed to do. Leaving the house without an escort to fraternize with the enemy...The order would demand for his head on a platter.

 

 _No,_ she thinks, eyes narrowed. She remembers Rin’s trial, when Augustus had nearly cleaved his leg in half. _They’d do much worse_.

 

Shura curses under her breath when, as Rin enters the house, Amaimon _grins_ up at her and disappears.

 

“I’ll kill him,” She growls lowly, stomping down the stairs. She’s not sure how or why Amaimon managed to win Rin’s affections, but she wasn’t going to allow it. Not when Rin was under her protection.

 

Rin is good--she knows this. Watching him prance about the kitchen chattering excitedly to his almost-cat, she feels some of her anger fade away. Shiro had raised him well; his compassion and love for humanity wasn’t going to just vanish because he fell for a jackass. She just needed him to see that.

 

“Hey, brat.” Watching Rin smack his head on the upper shelf of the fridge he had been rooting about in was almost as amusing as it was concerning. “ _Where have you been._ ”

 

She wondered if he would tell her.

 

“Sh-Shura!” Rin yelps, nearly stepping on an outraged Ukobach as he scrambled to get away from her. “Hey! How long have….?” He tapers off, withering under her furious glare.

 

“Well?” She prompts, crossing her arms. Not for the first time, she’s reminded of her mother doing the exact same to her, and wonders if she’s getting soft in her ripe old age of _not forty_.

 

“...please don’t tell Yukio. Or stab me.”

 

Shura raises an eyebrow expectantly. She entertains the thought of doing both, maybe at the same time, but brushes it off. She liked him too much for that.

 

“I was…” Interestingly, he twiddles his fingers looking red in the face. “...On a date...with…Amaimon.” He cringes, glancing at her, and she’s a little insulted that he would expect her to react so violently to something so...

 

(-- _Just a kid he’s just a kid **don’t hurt him**_ **\--** )

 

She takes a seat on a nearby stool and buries her head in her hands, letting out a deep sigh.

 

“ _Why_.”

 

Rin cautiously takes a seat across the table from her, propping his head on his crossed arms to see her better. “I don’t really know,” He confessed quietly. “I just have a good feeling about him.”

 

“He tried to kill you,” She watches him grimace, mimicking his expression. “This could be a _trap_.”

 

“If he wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it by now.” Rin replies confidently. “Besides, don’t you think I know all that?”

 

Shura’s not sure whether she’s comforted or not.

 

“Don’t tell Yukio,” Rin begs, eyes pleading. “ _Please_. He barely stands me as it is.”

 

He knows it; Yukio had nearly killed him when they had first arrived at the school, and they hadn’t been getting along since. Despite the fact that Rin hadn’t personally changed, acquiring his demon powers had put tension between them.

 

It seemed that, as of late, Yukio did nothing but yell and avoid him, leaving early in the morning and coming back so late at night it seems like days have passed since he’s seen the other, only talking to him to scold him over his chores and unfinished homework.

 

Rin worries that, if he did such things to Yukio’s satisfaction, he simply wouldn’t see his brother at all.

 

Shura frowns. Opens her mouth to protest but bites her tongue instead. Rin couldn’t trust his own _brother_. She didn’t even know where to _begin_ with that one.

 

“Fine.” Shura leans back, wondering when she become so soft hearted. “He’ll find out where you’re running off to eventually, but _fine_. You’re on your own though. Don’t expect me to cover up for you.”

 

She couldn’t stop him, but at least she could slow him down, minimizing the approaching train wreck as much as she could.

 

Rin looks relieved, though that fades away the moment the front door opens and the sounds of Yukio returning filter through the hallway.

 

"What the hell happened to _you_?"

 

Yukio is an absolute _mess_. At least half of his once pristine uniform is burned, his usually neat hair was upturned oddly, and the right lens of his glasses was cracked.

 

"Nothing," his voice cracks as he hands Rin a towering stack of books. "Please tell me you didn't leave the house."

 

Rin and Shura glance at each other.

 

"I....didn't leave the house?" Rin watches as Yukio lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping.

 

"Good," Yukio runs a distracted hand through his hair. "Mephisto tells me Amaimon has been wandering around town causing trouble--he actually set off fireworks at Mephisto's office!"

 

Rin's grip on the books tightens. "Oh, really?" He asks, his voice climbing an octave, “Why would he do that?"

 

"I don't know," Yukio grumbles, taking off his coat to inspect the damage. "He's a _demon_ \--why wouldn't he?"

 

Rin tries desperately to ignore the violent stab to his heart, letting out a soft sigh. _I'm a demon too,_ he thinks miserably. _Does he think of **me** like that?_

 

He absently fiddles with the books, thinking. He'd never really gotten along with others--not with his classmates, not with Yukio or even his old man. Maybe he really _was_ all demon; violent and angry to the point of no return.

 

"Maybe he was just having fun?" Rin can't stop the words falling from his mouth. "It could've been an accident. They're brothers, y'know? I...he wouldn't do that on purpose."

 

Rin falters as Yukio stares at him in absolute disbelief. "What?"

 

Rin grits his teeth, shouldering past his brother on his way upstairs. "Never _mind_."

 

When Yukio looks at Shura questioningly, she keeps her mouth shut, giving him nothing but a disapproving glare.

 

\--

 

Late in the night Rin is still awake, trying to ignore the severe ache in his chest. He had ignored his brother for the rest of the evening, pretending to read his new books and eventually just laying on his side, glaring the wall.

 

He couldn't stand reading--after awhile the words just started swimming about the page, making odd pictures. He couldn't be bothered to parse what they say after that, becoming angrier the more he tried.

 

He's not sure what time it is when his brother gets up. All he knows is that he was plenty surprised when he felt the bed dip and his brother leaning over him to peer at his face.

 

"I'm sorry," Yukio says quietly. His eyes are imploring, one hand hovering uncertainly near Rin's side. "I didn't mean--I was angry, and I lashed out at you. I was wrong."

 

Rin peeks at him from where he had hidden himself amongst his pillows.

 

"I know....I've been hard on you, as of late," Yukio's voice wavers uncertainly. His eyes are earnest, imploring, and something cracks in Rin's heart at the sight of it. "I don't mean to be, I just..."

 

The young half demon lurches up and over, dragging a startled Yukio with him until they're both tangled among Rin's sheets. His pillow flops unnoticed to the floor.

 

"Rin...?" Yukio's breath is hot against his neck. Confused hands twist into the back of his shirt--Rin has him pinned, flopped carelessly across his chest.

 

An odd shudder crawls up Yukio's spine. Just faintly he can hear a low hum.

 

Unable to speak past the relief that rings loud in his head, Rin buries himself in his brother's shirt and drowns out the noise in cotton.

 

He missed this--he and Yukio had been so close, back then. Holding hands, sharing everything, faces close--

 

Until one day they simply weren't. The old man took Rin to school and suddenly he was all alone.

 

Yukio wouldn't look him in the eye for weeks.

 

He didn't know why.

 

"I'm sorry," Yukio mumbles distractedly, glancing about unsurely. _What the hell was that noise_? Not anything normal. "Do you...?"

 

His skin prickles unhappily. It felt like a lightning storm was coming, despite the clear skies outside. The sound...it was coming from Rin.  

 

"Rin what is that."

 

Yukio can't stop the horror that creeps on his face when he sees the small gemstone glowing in his brother's back pocket.

 

Rin makes a muffled noise.

 

" _Rin_." Yukio shoves him to the floor, enraged. " _What_ did you _do?"_

 

 _"_ Nothing!" Rin's guilty expression says otherwise. The humming stops as the gem rolls onto the floor. It’s oddly luminescent, despite the fact that there was close to no light source for it to reflect. "Okay, maybe _something_."

 

"Do you even know what that _is_?!" This couldn't be happening. Yukio tries desperately to ignore the panic clawing at his gut. There is no way Rin agreed to a courtship with a _demon_. "That thing could've _killed_ me, Rin!"

 

Rin blinks at him, puzzled. "...it's a rock."

 

"It is a _blood pearl_ and with one wrong move it could've _electrocuted_ _me to death_." Yukio grits his teeth, nostrils flaring. He can't stop the vague feeling of betrayal creeping in his mind. "Where did you get that _thing_."

 

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to say. Rin's expression becomes closed. "I found it."

 

 _Liar_ , Yukio wanted to scream. He struggles to compose himself--yelling wouldn't do any good. He would know, he's tried just about everything.

 

"Rin, this is very dangerous. Demons are _out to get you_. If you agreed to something with one, you have to tell me--"

 

"No, I _don't_." Rin snaps defensively.

 

"I am _trying_ to _protect_ you!" Yukio grits his teeth. _Why was Rin being so difficult?_ Unless... "It's Amaimon, isn't it."

 

The alarm that passes across Rin's face is answer enough.

 

\--

 

From up on the rooftop of the dorm, Shura's concentration is broken by Yukio's angry yelling.

 

 _Knew it_ , she thinks with a sigh as Amaimon's name is brought up several times. In all honesty she's surprised Yukio made it past the i'm-having-a-heart-attack-from-your-stupidity stage of anger, and skipped right into i'm-going-to-murder-you-and-laugh-at-your-corpse section. Guess this was reason enough.

 

Amaimon, the smug bastard, was sitting just a few feet away from her. He had found a miniscule break in her barrier that not even she could've anticipated.

 

He had his own chair and everything.

 

"You know I can't trust anything you say, right?" Shura grouses, refusing his invitation to sit. She was still wary, paranoid of any action he may take. Her sword is held tight in her grip and pointed at him at all times.

 

When he had approached the barrier with hands raised in a peaceable gesture, she had been curious. His glowing gem told her all that she needed to know.

 

 _Don't attack me or mole-face gets it_.

 

"That's fine," Amaimon nibbles disinterestedly on one long nail. "I just wanted to ask you something."

 

Shura squints at him in disbelief, warily keeping her eye on the pearl he rolls between his fingers.

 

Taking that as a yes, Amaimon continues. "Yukio _loves_ his brother, yes?"

 

Shura doesn't like the implication in his eyes. Yukio would _never_ \--would he? She thinks back to Yukio's carefully restrained demeanor.

 

_"Don't tell Yukio, please. He barely stands me as it is."_

 

The gemstone flickers briefly.

 

"It's hard," Amaimon hums, "trying _not_ to let this thing kill him."

 

Shura swears under her breath.

 

"Rin would be mad," the king of earth sighs. "I can't kill anyone here. He'd be so angry--but how can I protect him if others can get at him so easily?" Dark eyes bore into her own as understanding dawns on her.

 

"You want me to keep people from _flirting with him_ ," she taps her sword on the ground. "And in return you won't go on a rampage because somebody is chatting up your boyfriend."

 

" _Exactly_." Amaimon's delighted grin rubs her the wrong way.

 

"Why." At his politely puzzled expression, she continues. "You nearly _killed_ Rin, and now you expect me to believe you're in _love_ with him. Why _Rin_ , why _now_?"

 

Amaimon blinks in a befuddled manner, as if he didn't really know himself.

 

Sure, Rin was conventionally attractive and a good guy, but that was typically the opposite of what demons were after. Demons favoured the sinners, the dark, the unsuspecting and _depressed_ \--

 

 

"You like him because he was _sad_?!"

 

Amaimon frowns at her, insulted. He wasn't _that_ vain.

 

The truth was, it was only natural for demons like Amaimon to be attracted to demons like Rin. There were healthy amounts of similarities and disparities between them. The heir to the throne of hell would do well to marry a demon king like himself.

 

He had wealth and power. Rin would too, should he ever decide to take it.

 

"It's none of your concern," he stands, his chair crumbling into dirt and dust without him.

 

Shura scowls at him. "If you so much as _think_ \--"

 

"Not even in my dreams," Amaimon is gone in two quick bounds, leaving Shura to deal with the two brothers--who, from the noise below, had resorted to a fist fight to solve their problem.

 

Swearing profusely, Shura storms into the stairwell. She had to separate them, preferably before Yukio was obliterated by a possessive gemstone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long, I was trying to figure out how to move the plot forward, and the exams happened, and then Christmas went along, and now it's February and this is very over due D:
> 
> Thank you everyone for your kind comments; they keep me going these days. I will try to respond to them all soon.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Blue Exorcist or the myriad of games listed in this chapter.

The next morning is a bit of a disaster.

 

(Okay, disaster wasn't a strong enough word, but hey, Rin wasn't the wordsmith of the family. That was Yukio's job--or maybe Satan's, although it would be a cold day in hell if he ever accepted _that_ bastard as his father.)

 

" _What_." Yukio manages to spit through gritted teeth. "is _that_."

 

Rin is honestly surprised he hasn't had an aneurysm yet. Or a hernia. The fact that they were barely on speaking terms as it is kept him silent, though he too wondered the same.

 

There was a dismembered pig head, reeking of decay and absolutely _covered_ in flies, thoughtfully spit upon a pike that had been aligned perfectly in front of their shared front door. It had been steadily boiling in the hot sun waiting for them to happen upon it as they stumbled through their morning routine of _thats my toothbrush asshole_ and _where are my glasses Rin you do this every time_ , though this round was a bit more violent than the last.

 

It...had a familiar green ribbon. One that made Yukio's handsome face spasm into a variety of outraged and indignant expressions.

 

"It's for you." He skirts unhappily past the oozing mass of dead flesh, leaving his brother with Amaimon’s second gift.

 

Rin shoots a helpless look at Shura, who raises her hands in a "not mine" gesture and backpedals inside, presumably to get the rancid smell away from her olfactory senses before it destroyed her sense of smell for good.

 

He spends a few minutes just staring at the thing, contemplating whether or not Yukio would drop kick him if he just left it there, before several little shining pebbles gently rained down on him from above.

 

He will never understand demonic tradition.

 

"How is it?" Amaimon's gaze is hopeful, peeking out of the second story window. "How is the _smell_?"

 

Rin lets out a long, somewhat strangled noise, feeling like the pig's eye sockets were staring into his soul. He doesn't dare inhale when the wind blows in his direction. "... _strong_?"

 

This was evidently the right thing to say, because Amaimon grins triumphantly, showing off his sharp teeth. His dimples make Rin melt a little, and when Amaimon leaps down to him to delightedly plant sweet kisses about his face he doesn't resist.

 

"Hey, here's an idea," Shura leans in the doorway, one hand pinching her nose, " _get rid of that thing and get back to training_."

 

Rin pouts, but Amaimon has the gall to look outright offended.

 

"This thing," he sneers, "is _tradition_. It represents the approval of the King of Rot."

 

“King of Rot is right,” Shura grumbles under her breath. “That thing is going to sprout _mushrooms_ at this rate.”

 

Rin doesn't know who the hell that is, but when Shura insists that it takes a trip to the dumpster out back he can't help but feel a little upset himself.

 

They relent when Rin suggests a compromise, and the rotting pig head was placed on the roof downwind from the front door. Shura wants nothing to do with it, and makes him clean the stain left behind by the front door before he goes back to training.

 

"...it's not bad," Rin addresses the candles before him, trying to ignore both Shura's grumpy gaze and Amaimon's discontented shuffling.

 

"It's just _disgusting_." Shura levels her fiercest scowl at the demon king’s indignant glare.

 

Rin burns the middle candle to a molten crisp in a torrent of angry blue fire.

 

Effectively distracted, Amaimon applauds the small pile of wax as Rin replaces, heaving a heavy sigh as he does.

 

"Is that not what you wanted?" The older demon asks curiously, head tilted curiously.

 

"'M supposed to control it." Rin grumbles, trying to reign in the panic he feels whenever his blue flames appear. "I have to light the two on the ends."

 

He wrinkles his nose adorably, and Amaimon has to control the urge to grab it.

 

Rin tries again, reaching to the burning heat in his core, startling when blue light swarms his being and reigning it in just long enough to light the middle without destroying it completely.

 

It's exhausting, and his body feels like lead because of it.

 

Amaimon eyes him with interest, head propped on one hand as he watches. Trial and error was slow going, and Shura's unhelpful commentary seems to make things worse for him. Was this how humans taught one another?

 

How...unnecessarily _complicated_.

 

Amaimon reaches over and takes Rin's nearest hand in his own.

 

"Might I be of assistance?" At Rin's puzzled nod, the King of Earth takes his other hand in his own and holds them together. He focuses and gently, sweetly, coaxes out blue flames from his veins.

 

Rin tenses in his hands, his breath hitching, but at Amaimon's reassuring hum he relaxes a fraction.

 

"Focus on how it feels," Amaimon murmured, absently admiring the soft skin the shines in the flickering blue light.

 

Rin tries, struggling not to flinch away from the fire. He can feel Amaimon pull, as if he were tugging on a chord, and the flames died down enough for him to be comfortable holding in his cupped hands.

 

This...wasn't so bad. The fire was warm but not painfully so. It was almost comforting, the ghost of a warmth he had only felt once before. The faint memory fades from his grip too fast for him to see, and he desperate longing leaves him chilled.

 

"Don't be afraid of your own power," Amaimon slowly relaxes his grip on Rin's essence, allowing him further control. "It belongs to you; it is a part of you. It will protect you so long as you let it."

 

Rin lets Amaimon’s soothing words wash over him, relaxing into his own fire, the others protective presence keeping him grounded. He feels the warmth slowly spread from his core and throughout, eventually dwarfing his entire body in blue light.

 

"Try to gather it here," Amaimon taps Rin's hands for emphasis, admiring the glow. He delights when Rin obeys, finding joy when Rin’s expression lightens with his fire.

 

Fear drove Rin’s flames into violence; much like any demon’s power, they depended on his emotions. Amaimon explains this as he has Rin exercise his restraint over the next few hours, gently guiding his fear into something more _useful_.

 

 _Don’t be afraid_ , Amaimon says through their connected essences. _I’ll help you through this_.

 

Rin dares to believe him.

 

Shura mimes puking over the edge of the rooftop.

 

\--

 

"...It's still here." Yukio observes blankly.

 

"So it seems," Mephisto's face is carefully neutral.

 

The buzzing pig head smiles benevolently down at him. He's never seen a more ugly roof fixture, though he supposes that's the point.

 

A Demon’s scarecrow. _Wonderful_.

 

"Approval of the King of Rot." Yukio pinches the bridge of his nose in an effort to quail his rapidly appearing headache. "What next, the _King of Fire_ burns down the house?"

 

"Actually I do believe he would spread charcoal on your _door_ , but close enough." Mephisto lets himself in, delightedly twirling his umbrella. "Now, where IS that lucky boy?"

 

Yukio mumbles something that sounds distinctly like an insult as he follows, kicking the door closed behind him as he does.

 

"’ _Puruteru_ ’ isn't a fucking _word_ , brat!" Shura slams her fist on the cafeteria table, sending several wooden tiles flying.

 

"It is too!" Rin mimics her. Several more tiles fly off the board. “Right?”

 

Amaimon, who up until this point had been squatting on the other end of the table puzzling over the user manual, opens the dictionary on his lap and takes a pen to it. “ _Absolutely_.”

 

"Cheating! That's _cheating_ you absolute _shit_!" Shura howls. She whips around to glare at Ukobach, who was fearfully watching from the kitchen. "Take ten points! They lose a turn!"

 

"I don't think that's how this game works," Amaimon says, flipping through the small menu absently.

 

“Says that one that’s cheating-!”

 

“My my, are you all playing _scrabble_?” Mephisto interrupts before Shura can toss the board, tapping his umbrella on the floor to garner their attention. “How fun! What say you, Yukio?”

 

Yukio frowns at the mess, doing his best to  pretend not to notice Amaimon’s intense stare.

 

“Room for two more?” Mephisto nudges Yukio along, and several minutes later they’re caught in an argument between Shura and Rin about playing Monopoly versus Jenga.

 

“How about,” Amaimon says casually, “We play _graveyard_?”

 

Several pairs of eyes turn to stare at him.

 

“Brother dearest,” Mephisto sounds mildly strained. “I don’t think that’s the greatest--”

 

“What’s graveyard?” Rin interrupts, his eyes alight with curiosity. His tail wags joyfully--so juvenile, so _cute_.

 

Amaimon could have kissed him, but Yukio’s burning stare in the back of his head threatened to drill a hole right into his brain should he even _lean_ towards his prospective bride. “A very simple game; you summon a ghoul in a graveyard, and the first one to get it’s gem wins.”

 

“Is that the kind of shit you people in Gehenna play,” Shura grumps from her end of the table, “because that is the _dumbest_ idea I've ever heard.”

 

“You do know that Ghouls are functionally _immortal_ , right?” Yukio adjusts his glasses, giving Amaimon a frigid look. If that demon king was looking for excuses to kill Rin, he _wasn't having it._ “Getting a ghoul’s gem is impossible.”

 

“Ah, that’s what makes it fun,” Mephisto seems to be warming up to the idea, eyes slit in rapidly growing mischief. “You have to trick it. Very good exercise. Would make a great exwire test if not for the fact that they keep _eating_ the _participants_.”

 

"We are not playing this game." Yukio scowls. "Quite frankly, its past curfew and I have a class to teach tomorrow-"

 

"Didn't say  _you_  had to go," Amaimon picks at his nails disinterestedly. Quite frankly, the more time he can spend alone with Rin the better--the others were crowding in the  _alone, together_ phase of their courtship, and it was slowing them down greatly. At this rate they wouldn't be bound by the dark months, but late spring at best.

 

Yukio wants to kill him. 

 

" _Fine_."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look. An end goal. Does this mean the end is nigh? ....probably not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for such kind comments everyone. Honestly, you guys spoil me :') .

Being out past curfew was illegal. Going into the private graveyard just outside of town? _illegal_. Desecrating hundred year old graves in said private graveyard just outside of town? _Extremely_ illegal.

 

And yet the only thing Yukio could do was stand by holding Rin’s shovel as he watched the headmaster of his school graffiti sigils on graves while Amaimon explained to his brother how to dig up a coffin _properly_.

 

“Why are we here, we could all be _arrested_ by the order for _summoning a ghoul without a permit_ \--!” Yukio is interrupted by the stream of dirt and mud that lands on his face from Amaimon’s shovel.

 

“ _Oops._ ” the king of earth drones, glancing over from the grave his was steadily making his way deeper into.

 

Shura cackles from where she was using a statue of a saint as a chair.

 

_Laugh it up_ , the young exorcist thinks frostily, _that grave is going to be **yours** in a minute_.

 

“I thought graves were supposed to be _six_ feet under, not _ten_ ,” Rin proclaims loudly, using his own feet to measure the distance as Amaimon continued to dig below him. “The old man would have a fit if he knew some gravedigger was fucking up last rites like this.” He laughs, because it’s true. He’s never seen a man so terrified as one who had be thoroughly reamed by an irate priest.

 

There’s a resounding clang when the king of earth hits an iron casket and _breaks_ it.

 

“Heh, oops.” Rin’s grin fades at Amaimon’s darkened expression. “Something the matter?”

 

_I’ll give that priest a damned fit_ , he thinks, snapping the handle in half and chucking the pieces out of the hole as he continues with his hands, _as soon as I summon him from the grave and kill him again._

 

“No, not at all,” Amaimon glances up at his worried frown. “I was just...thinking, about something.”

 

“About what?” Rin presses, propping his chin on his hands.

 

_Killing your father_.

 

“...and, are you sure you don’t want help?”

 

“No, I’m almost done here,” Amaimon answers politely instead. He looks up at Rin, thinking.

 

“And I was thinking...you deserve better.”

 

Rin blinks down at him in a befuddled manner, and Amaimon's not sure if he should be worried or angry about it.

 

“Alright, that should do it!” Mephisto abruptly calls from his side of the graveyard, “Do you have the remains yet?”

 

Amaimon lifts a gilded casket from his place in the grave, sliding along the ground it to his brother in one swift motion.

 

“Show off,” Rin laughs. There’s a question in his eyes as he helps Amaimon out of the hole, but he doesn’t dare answer it. _Not yet_.

 

As they get nearer to the others, Mephisto begins chanting in a language that sounds suspiciously like warped German, and soon the sigils he had drawn are glowing around the casket. Air seems to gather around them, and in moments they’re being buffeted by the rising wind.

 

There's fizzing, and then loud clattering from inside. When the light fades and everyone is quiet, pale fingers pry open the box from inside.

 

_Flesh_.

 

Yukio drops the shovel and pulls out his guns. An unsure glance at Mephisto shows the elder demon grinning with excitement.

 

_Flesh_.

 

Rin can feel goosebumps popping up on his skin. His fingers reach out nervously behind him, and are caught gently in Amaimon’s hand, which gives a reassuring squeeze.

 

“ _Flesh_ ,” the lid clatters to the ground. The rotting skin hanging from fractured bones reattached into a sort of resemblance to its former self--too thin, sharp and ill looking to be completely human. Red light fills empty sockets, training on Yukio.

 

“Looks like you’re the distraction this round, Yukio.” Mephisto grins, the ghoul’s light giving his fangs a terrifying glint. “Let the game begin!”

 

Shura leaps first; sword already drawn, and her vertical swipe was blocked by solid bone. The ghoul’s skin didn’t bleed, and Rin suddenly realized what, exactly, Shura had meant when she said they were _functionally_ _immortal_.

 

The ghoul opens it’s mouth wide and lunges for her, only to be sent reeling back when Yukio sends a barrage of bullets its way as Shura retreats.

 

Mephisto takes the opportunity to beat it with his umbrella--newly formed into what looked like a halberd.

 

“Uh,” Rin looks at Amaimon for help. Between Mephisto, Shura and Yukio, he couldn’t swing his blade without hurting them along with the ghoul. He’s quickly realizing how much of a bad idea this really was.

 

The king of Earth grins, grabs his hand, and starts leading him in the other direction.

 

“Wait!” Rin looks back, nearly tripping in the process. His brother, distracted by the rampaging ghoul and Shura’s careless swings, doesn’t notice.

 

“They’re fine,” Amaimon says delightedly, looking gleeful. “Brother will take care of them. We planned it together, after all.”

 

“ _Planned_?” Rin lets himself be dragged along to the other side of the graveyard, where an old mausoleum made itself at home amongst weathered stone and moss.”What do you mean, _planned_?”

 

Amaimon examines the area thoroughly before nodding to himself--they were alone.

 

“They were interfering,” Amaimon opens the door and leads Rin inside, closing it behind them. “You didn’t seem all that happy with them following you around, so I had Mephisto distract them for awhile.”

 

There's wine and lit candles and _cake_ on what Rin thinks is probably an altar, and if its sacrilegious that they sit on it and drink then he didn’t mind sinking straight into hell for it then and there, because that was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

 

He makes himself at home under Amaimon’s arm, lighting the rim of his glass with blue fire and trying to ignore the spastic fluttering of his happy heart.

 

Until he remembers.

 

“...what did you mean, earlier?” Abruptly pensive, Rin stares into his glass and avoids Amaimon's eyes. “That I...deserve, better.”

 

The king of earth is quiet for a moment, watching, finding faint delight in how Rin squirms.

 

“You’ve been misled your entire life,” he raises the hand wrapped around Rin’s waist to stroke a curved cheekbone with the flats of his nails, just barely grazing the skin there. “It’s unfair to you. You have a right to know about your heritage, your family, _yourself_. You shouldn’t have been hidden from it.”

 

He thinks of what Rin could have been; a young, wild prince cradled in his father’s horn, raised in the dark citadel of Gehenna, fluid and teeming with his own power.

 

_Unafraid_.

 

Rin stares at him, expression unclear, before he contemplates over his drink again.

 

Amaimon wonders if maybe it was too soon to tell him. He pauses his ministrations and sets down his empty glass. “Are you upset with me for thinking so?” He hopes not. An angry lover was not one to be trifled with, especially when they were essentially the heir to the throne of hell.

 

“How can I believe all demons are bad,” Rin says softly, quietly,”when you say something like _that_?”

 

Amaimon doesn’t have much of an answer to that.

 

“It’s just,” Rin stares into the liquid black in his cup, absently swirling it with idle fingers. “Why can’t we just, i don’t know, _coexist without killing each other_?”

 

Strained eyes land on Amaimon’s face, searching, desperate. He had to know--all this time, had he been killing demons without reason?

 

Amaimon thinks on it. It seems impossible, if one ignored the anomaly of Mephisto, who managed to both coexist with humans and hold his own without being bound by a contract.

 

“Perhaps,” he says slowly, “we could. Humans and demons are so different it would be difficult. Not to mention…you would have to take the throne to do that.”

 

Rin frowns. “what?”

 

“In Gehenna, you father reigns king. He...isn’t one that can be convinced, and the demons there only listen to him.” Amaimon tilts his head, “but, if you take the throne from him, take your _inheritance_ , they would follow you unquestionably.”

 

Rin falls quiet again. “I..I don’t know if I could do that.”

 

Sure, killing satan had become his occupational obsession, but he wasn’t sure if he’d go so far as to take a bloody throne and rule over a world he knew next to nothing about.

 

But…

 

If he could. If he did. Surely the world would be a better place? If humans and demons alike could mingle, bounce between the worlds, help each other, live together, then...that wouldn’t be so bad.

 

And, maybe Yukio wouldn’t be so…. _bitter_. He could be a doctor, just like he’d always wanted to be.

 

“...you don’t have to,” the King of Earth presses a chaste kiss to the crown of Rin’s head, mildly mourning the fact that he’ll probably never see Rin wearing a real one. “You deserve the best, but the definition of which is entirely up to you.”

 

Rin gnaws on his lower lip, glancing unsurely between his glass and Amaimon. “...If I did, would you help me?”

 

“Yes,” the answer spills out of his mouth faster than he could think. _Always_.

 

Amaimon almost wishes he wasn’t turning into such a sap.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this has taken so long I’m pretty sure I restarted/scrapped this chapter at last five times;;; there are certain twists that had to be made this way so it is a short one, but I will make it up in the next chapter.

 

“ _Where. is. Rin_?” Yukio snarls through gritted teeth, grabbing a hold of Mephisto’s scarf and hauling close. His face was truly terrifying, twisted into such an amalgamation of rage and fear the headmaster was both afraid and aroused himself. “You were supposed to _watch them_.”

 

“Is _that_ why he’s here?” Shura flops uncaringly on the ground, nearly disrupting several bouquets of dying flowers and grave offerings. The ghoul Mephisto had kindly beaten to the ground had returned to its grave with a cheerful wave and a thank you for playing with it. “I thought he just got bored of playing video games and hiding in his office.”

 

“Now, now, Yukio,” Mephisto raises his hands in a peaceable gesture, “there’s no need to worry, I’m sure Amaimon’s intentions are completely-”

 

“If you so much as _think_ of saying ‘pure’ I will _drown you in holy water_.”

 

“...not bad?” Mephisto gives him a lopsided smile that he hope seems charming, though it had a bit too many teeth  to be considered appeasing.

 

This serves to only make the younger’s anger worse.

 

“ _Amaimon_ ,” Yukio hisses in his face, “tried to _kill_ Rin. There are _demons_ after him, the order is _looking_ for excuses to kill him. And you, you’re telling me, that everything is JUST FINE?!”

 

Mephisto cringes at Yukio’s voice, which was rapidly gaining volume.

 

And yet…

 

There was a violent fire in his eyes that Mephisto hadn’t seen before. Something that reminds him, just a bit, of Shiro.

 

“This isn’t a game, Rin’s life is at stake here. Amaimon isn’t any good for him-!”

 

He’s abruptly cut off when Mephisto grabs his lower jaw.

 

“While I _do_ think it’s good that you’re letting off all of that bottled up... _steam_ , I should _hope_ that you let go of my scarf, preferably before it _wrinkles_.” His eyes glitter as he says it, his grin so wide it was borderline painful.

 

Yukio drops it.

 

“...are you guys done with the sexual tension thing, because I’m missing my bed and we can’t leave without the brat.” Shura inches towards the gravel road that leads further into the graveyard.

 

“What? No!” Yukio slaps Mephisto’s hand away, face swiftly turning red. He storms after her quickly, wanting to put as much distance between himself and Mephisto as was possible.

 

Said demon looks down at his own hand in befuddlement.

 

_Oh, no_. He thinks, feeling a familiar shudder crawl up his spine. _Oh, no_.

 

\--

  
  


The mausoleum chamber is cold, so Rin makes himself at home under Amaimon’s arm and thinks.

 

He’d never been to Gehenna, though he had known he’d end up there eventually--be it trying to kill Satan or just dying viciously in some sort of freak accident (because let’s be honest, demons can’t go to The Nice Place, so neither could half-demons, right?). He’d heard stories, though.

 

A dark world, set in stone and red mist. Pandæmonium, the capital rising above the lost souls trapped in shallow graves. Demons crawling, creeping along jagged fissures, looking for ways out. Layers of mountains set for punishment of malignant souls.

 

But these were never stories he felt like he could believe.

 

Amaimon said they had _seasons_ , long winter months and a spring. Not something he’d ever seen in the old man’s heavy tomes. There were estates, homes, _families_ there, with enough prestige they made wine, jewelry, art and agriculture.

 

They were different, yes. Had different ways of doing things. But how could he believe them to be _inherently wrong_?

 

“Tell me the beginning.”

 

Amaimon gives him a puzzled look.

 

“How Gehenna came to be. When _God_ \--” fuck, why the hell does that word taste like ash in his mouth? ”--made the world.”

 

There’s an unhappy twist to Amaimon’s mouth, as if he wasn’t fond of the word, either. “Gehenna is our king’s dimension. It is his kingdom….and his _prison_. He fell from…” He purses his lips, and Rin realizes that he’s avoiding saying certain words. His wine tastes sour, and he sets it aside. “...the light court, because he thought humans were silly, flawed things that shouldn’t be placed above him and... _the rest_ of them.”

 

Rin tries to picture it. An indignant angel, looking down on the world with a wounded pride.

 

“Imagine,” Amaimon lets out a delicate sigh, “as if, you were a musician. A very good one--the best, arguably. And then the conductor finds a new musician--one who plays a completely different instrument, who isn’t even _good_ at that one, and _replaces the whole orchestra with them_. And then seats you and the others in the audience to watch.”

 

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Rin argues, feeling lost. “Why would the conductor do that?”

 

Amaimon tilts his head, regards his prospective bride to be in a resigned sort of fondness.

 

“He saw potential in the new musician, while the old orchestra couldn’t change.”

 

Rin is silent, before it sinks in.

 

“Demons can change, can’t they?”

 

“Yes,” Amaimon hums, pleased at his deduction, “ _because we fell_.”

 

He kisses the wrinkled skin between Rin’s furrowed brows. He was close to figuring out what Mephisto had, all those decades ago.

 

“So demons are like humans,” Rin says slowly, leaning into the affection.

 

“And…?”

 

“...Doesn't that mean he got what he wanted, in the end? He wasn’t placed below humans. Hes at the same level.”

 

Amaimon grins. _Exactly_. “Mephisto calls it _The Redemption Clause_.”

 

“It’s not a punishment.” Rin says, voice hushed. “Being a demon, it’s a second chance?”

 

“That’s what we think.” Amaimon hums, “Brother is going to prove it--It’s what he’s been working on, all these years. He’s going to be _the first demon to regain grace_.”

 

\--

 

_I’m not going to receive grace_ , Mephisto thinks blankly, _I am going straight to Christian hell and I am going to **burn**._

 

Yukio was trooping doggedly ahead in order to put as much distance between them as was possible, which certainly wasn’t helping Mephisto’s case because now he had a delightful view of his _ass_.

 

Centuries of redeeming himself from the sin of his father, and it was all going to go to waste because he’d had a whiff of angry nerd priest and _lost_ it.

 

_Again_.

 

Shura was giving him a suspicious look. She gives one to Yukio as well before letting out an aggravated groan.

 

“Are you two serious right now? You’re not even _trying_ to look for them!” She raises her hands before dropping them and storming in a different direction, snarling insults under her breath.

 

Them? Ah, yes. Rin and Amaimon. _That’s_ what they had been doing.

 

He wasn’t concerned; Amaimon was strong enough to storm the vatican if it pleased him to do so. Rin was also coming along well with his powers--really, looking for them was a bit of a waste.

 

Which left him here, _alone_.

 

_With Yukio_.

 

No, he had to control himself this time around. He couldn’t be captivated by the little square glasses or the indignant rage or---

 

“Are you _coming_ or _not_?” Yukio snarls over his shoulder, having deemed the space between them adequate enough for a professional level of nagging.

 

...Shiro must have taught him well, because that tone of voice was one that Mephisto was _very well familiar with_.

 

Mephisto does his best to stifle his attraction with despair, though he only succeeds in a wretched, internal _pining_ that was fuel for a nice, long sonnet.

 

He wondered how Yukio was feeling, but could really only deduce that the other was furious--a common occurrence--or disturbed.

 

Yukio didn’t like what Shura had implied--they were distantly related to each other (no thanks to a certain demon overlord and his many wives), so the very idea of it makes his skin crawl.

 

Trying to distract himself, Mephisto glaces about their surroundings. this was an older part of the graveyard; many tombstones are broken, or their words worn away by time. There are few mausoleums scattered about, covered in crawling ivy.

 

One of these held Rin and Amaimon, and Mephisto is quite sure he doesn’t want to know what they’re doing in there.

 

“Rin!” Yukio abruptly calls out, breaking into a run. A bit startled, Mephisto hastens to follow, doing his utmost to clear his face of any of his thoughts.

 

Shura had found them; She was in the lead, her voice raised as she scolds them. Together they followed her, one looking far more chastened than the other.

 

“Rin what the _hell_ were you--!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Rin interrupts quickly. Yukio stops several paces in front of him, surprised. “Also, I’m sorry because it’ll probably happen again.”

 

Yukio gives him an incredulous look. “What kind of apology is that?!”

 

“An honest one,” Amaimon grunts. Shura elbows him, hissing that it was a _rhetorical question you dirt stain._

 

“You know better,” Yukio settles, looking displeased. He ignored the king of earth, his focus on his errant brother.

 

The determined expression on Rin’s face doesn’t waver, and a deep feeling in his gut tells Yukio  that he’s not going to like what comes out of his mouth.

 

“I’m going to become King of Gehenna.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Bon-bon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and plot, angst and plot~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn’t actually realized this until recently, but this fic spans the time of one week. Thats it. Chapter one literally starts on a Monday and this chapter ends on a Sunday hAHAHA;;; Anyway. Sorry this took so long, I was stuck trying to figure out how to make it work. Also, school and work, bc I’m adult-ing now. BUT I have a new mac, its fun to type on, so no worries. We’re making headway here. And by we I mean me. And by headway I mean I’m typing this shit in class occasionally.
> 
> There’s some angst in this one, and some h/c bc i love it. 
> 
> Thanks for the comments everybody, I'll try to, uh, reply to them. Eventually.

Rin was running.

         Rin was running, because Yukio was ten steps behind, screaming profanities with guns blazing in the early morning light. It’s almost picturesque the way he gives chase—head on, instantly knowing which move Rin makes, face terrifying in its deep set scowl of disgusted rage.

         It would be, if not for the bullets reaching just a hair’s width away from his _head_.

         He swerves out of the graveyard, sneakers slipping on the dirt loosened by morning dew. Yukio swerves violently, almost skidding past the gate completely before he manages to right himself and give chase again.

         Another loud _bang_ and pain blasts into Rin’s side. He doesn’t stop—panic drives him forward.

         The bullets are non-lethal, especially to demons of Rin’s caliber, but that doesn’t mean they don’t _hurt like a motherfucker_.

         “ _Like hell am I going to let you do that!_ ”

         He’s making leaps and bounds down the street as his brother chases with the speed and anger of a raging demon, and if seeing his breath was a prelude to smoke and ash, well, Rin couldn’t say he _didn’t_ expect it.

         Sometimes he wonders which of the two of them _really_ inherited Satan’s flames.

         Thankfully Rin knows the alleyways better than his studious brother; he ducks into the maze of tight corners and endless passages until Yukio’s swearing could no longer be heard by even a demon’s pointed ears.

         Just to be safe, he clamors up a fire escape and to the roof of a nearby apartment, nearly slipping off the ladders twice in his haste to escape.

         The roof is safe; at this hour very few were awake.

         He plops down heavily next to an air conditioning unit and tries to calm his frantic, heaving breaths.

         To say that his brother disapproved of his decision would be an understatement, and when Shura lost it too he _knew_ he was in trouble then.

         Mephisto had seemed at a loss for words, which was a rare occurrence. His attempts at calming the storm before it happened was useless, because for some reason Yukio was refusing to look at him while Shura…well, ignored him as per usual.

         Honestly, he was lucky Amaimon engaged Shura when she turned her blade on them, or else he’d be in _pieces_.

         “ _This has gone on long enough. I can’t let you do this._ ”

         The dismay Rin had felt was crushing.

         He had rather hoped they would’ve listened to him, at least. He should’ve explained first. He should’ve waited until they were out of kill mode. He should’ve…

_He should’ve never gotten into a fight with the king of rot, all those months ago._

Rin’s throat constricts. It was not the first time the thought of what could have gone differently popped up in his mind. If he hadn’t met Astaroth’s bait, he wouldn’t have unlocked his powers in a desperate attempt at saving himself. Yukio wouldn’t have had to come back from school in order to keep an eye on him—he could’ve been the doctor he’s wanted to be. The church wouldn’t have been wrecked, and Fujimoto…

_The old man wouldn’t have died like that._

He’d be alive, safe and sound in the old church. Rin would be there right beside him, occasionally sending Yukio letters, and maybe trying to get his life together.

         Normal— _human_.

         Rin’s eyes burn, and when he realizes his panicked breath had given way to sobs, he was too far into it to stop.

         He couldn’t _stand_ it anymore. Nothing he did was ever _right_. Even though he just wanted to be accepted, to help, to _please_ …

         Sadness was a terrible weight on his chest. It had gotten heavier and heavier, until his rib cage creaked with the pressure and his heart slammed back against it, loud, frantic, _afraid_. As if his body was fit to collapse under the weight of it all, to crush itself out of sheer desperation for relief.

         And then, just when he’s about to collapse into a nuclear blast of blue fire—

         “ _I just think…you deserve better_.”

         No one had ever said something like that to him before. Not his father, not his brother, not his classmates or his teachers. Rin, deserve better? The delinquent, the idiot, the failure? Desperate for attention, frantic, angry and always so _afraid_ , oh, the fear that ticked up and down his spine every day like damning clockwork. That clouded his mind and kept him awake when the sun set and the room was swimming in a darkness not unlike his own.

         No one ever showed him such kindness, such consideration, as Amaimon had.

         The sudden blast of sheer _yearning_ for the demon king envelopes him like a shroud, and in his surprise Rin realizes that never before has he ever wanted someone to comfort him so badly as he wanted Amaimon to right now. The earthy scent of his coat, that polished feel of the flats of his nails on Rin’s cheek, the warmth that often radiated from his entire being.

         The tears blur his vision, and he closes his eyes against the confusion.

 

 

—

 

         Bon could hear gunshots out his window, and it’s not for the first time that he wishes he had picked a better apartment.

         Staying in the dorms on campus was no longer feasible for him; quite frankly, the sheer amount of demons he had run into on campus was borderline ridiculous, and besides, he couldn’t study properly with his dorm-mates constantly making noise through the night, be it parties or loud music or whatever else one could concoct at three in the morning.

         The prank war had been the last straw—he had woken up to a pie in the face and had lost it, had reamed his roommates for several hours before he stormed off to look for a quieter place to live.

         Renzo and Konekomaru spent the next week or so helping him move and find furniture, and when _that_ was over there were bills, and study, and class and tests and…

         Rin hadn’t made a reappearance in the classroom, and Bon hadn’t gone to visit him.

         _Coward_.

         Bon shoves his notebook off his desk in frustration. No excuses—he’d been cowardly. He was afraid of Rin, just like the rest of his classmates, and yet…

         Rin had never harmed them. Not _once_. Despite the fact that he was completely capable of burning the entire campus to the ground, Rin was…

         _Kind_. Forgiving, because despite all the ire sent his way Rin did not hold it against them. He tried repeatedly for their acceptance, and despite his wariness Bon knows his desire is not malignant.

         There’s a noise outside—someone climbing the fire escape? He looks to the window but sees nothing but the early morning sun.

         The gunshots have faded by now. He opens the window warily and peers out—there’s mud and bits of gravel leading up the ladders to the roof. A convict on the run? Or another batch of teenagers looking for a place to smoke? Just last week one had fallen off the roof…

         Irritation giving way to concern, Bon clamors out of his window and steadily makes his way up the rusty ladder. There’s a lecture on his tongue ready by the time he reaches the top, but it fades in an instant.

         Rin was curled up by the ac unit, face hidden in his hands, tail curled around his small shuddering frame. Soft sobs emanated from his being, and Bon could feel his chest constrict in time with each hiccup, each soft keen.

         Bon is numb with shock for all of five seconds, but damn if he didn’t make those moments count. _What is he doing here_ was shortly followed by _why is he crying on my roof_ and quickly to _how does he know where I live_. He hesitates before he steels himself and climbs onto the roof, cautious of startling the other.

         His once-classmate stiffens, head shooting up. His bright eyes are wide and a terrifying shade of electric blue that reminds him terribly of the blue flames from _that night_.

         “…Rin?” He hates how his voice wavers so nervously.

         “ _Go away_ ,” Rin hiccups miserably.

         Bon was tempted to laugh, though he shoved his hysteria down his throat and tried not to think about it. “I _live_ here.”

         Rin stares at him in confusion, letting out a little sniffle that made his heart do all sorts of strange dropping motions.

         Bon lets out a gusty sigh, a feeling of awkwardness settling on his shoulders. When it came to people, he tended to be rather… _socially inept,_ as Shima had recently put it. It’s worse when he’s with Rin, or even in the same general vicinity of him.

         He’s not entirely sure why. Maybe Rin was just _that irritating_ , though he knew it was something else entirely.

         Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself.

         So he settles against the ac unit a respectable distance away from Rin and tries to ignore how Rin scuttles back as if he were _afraid_ of him.

         Absurd, it should be the other way around. The universe must be playing a joke on him, because the son of the man who destroyed his temple and consequently his childhood, who bore the same horrendous power that could level countries, should _not_ be afraid with an exorcist-in-training.

         But he is, and Bon feels like a colossal asshole because of it.

         “I move here a week ago.” He says, for lack of any other subject. He doesn’t ask Rin if he’s okay because he clearly _isn’t_ , and Bon feels like he isn’t _quite_ the right person who would be able to comfort him. “The dorms were too loud for me to study.”

         Rin curls up again and side-eyes him, wiping the tear tracks away on his cheeks.

         “So,” Bon keeps going, helpless against the flood of word vomit coming from his mouth. “I mean, it’s kind of _cold_ up here, isn’t it?”

         Rin looks like he wants to glare at him, but doesn’t have the strength for it, leaving with a tired sort of look leveled his way. “My core keeps me warm.”

         Bon decides that cringing would be a bad idea, in this situation.

         “Oh. I mean, right. Of course.” Bon wishes he could tape his own mouth shut. “Is there, uh…”

         Rin settles his head on his crossed arms and _stares_ at him, as if he was daring Bon to continue.

         He back peddles a bit. “What were those gunshots earlier? I man, they happen all the time around here, but its usually late at night, so…”

         “Yukio tried to shoot me.”

         Bon thinks his ribcage just caved in, because Rin was crying all over again and _he fucked up_.

         “Shit,” he reaches for Rin, confused. “I’m so—“

         “Fuck _off_!” A wall of blue fire slammed surrounded Rin’s small frame.

         Bon recoils, startled.

         The flames look malevolent, swirling up from the demon’s being and licking the air as if it wanted to drink the oxygen in until there was nothing left. It was almost blindingly bright, like looking at a small sun.

         But Bon knows better.

         He steels himself and reaches through it anyway.

         It doesn’t _hurt_. Warm, yes, but not hot enough to burn or even singe his shirt sleeves. A gust of warmth that spread from Rin’s being, and Bon knows that Rin could never hurt him, hurt _anyone_ he cared about.

         Rin loved them too much for that.

         Bon take a hold of Rin’s arm and drags him over.

         “I’m _sorry_ ,” Rin is too startled to fight him, just lets himself be moved into Bon’s arms. There’s an odd, low hum ringing in Bon’s ear, but he ignores it. “I was a _coward_ , okay? I didn’t trust you, I should’ve at least _visited_ when you were recovering but I didn’t because I was _afraid of you_.”

         Rin starts to struggle, breaths coming out in sobs. “Then _go away_!”

         Bon’s skin prickles. He shoves his fear away determinedly.

         “ _No_ , because I want you— _need_ you to understand that _I’m still your friend if you’ll have me_.”

         Rin stops. _Slumps_ into his arms as if he was too tired to prop himself up anymore, which Bon thinks is maybe progress.

         “I’ll _kill you_.” Rin hiccups.

         Maybe not.

         Bon shakes his head, reaching up to ruffle his hair in an almost fond manner. He can feel the tears soaking his shirt, and something in him twists unhappily at the thought of Rin keeping on like this. It was a stark difference from his usual upbeat personality. “ _You won’t_.”

         “It could happen,” Rin sniffles.

         The humming noise is louder.

         Bon decides to pretend he didn’t hear that.

         “What the hell happened, anyway?” He’d never seen Rin cry like this—he was usually just being dramatic. He’d seen the brothers fight fairly frequently, but had never seen something end up like _this_.

         Rin looks distinctly unhappy at the question, but Bon keeps pushing, hoping for a break, a _crack_ in the wall Rin was steadily breaking down. “You might feel better if you talk about it.”

         “I _can’t_ ,” _What the hell was that noise_? “You’ll be just the same.”

         Rin breaks free of his arms and takes several steps away, until there was a safe distance between them.

         “Please,” Rin looks agonized, “ _Don’t make me_.”

         The noise is gone, but there was the distinct feel of a storm coming on the horizon, despite the lack of clouds.

         Rin turns away.

         “Wait!” Bon doesn’t reach for him, though it’s a near thing. “You…you could stay at my place until Yukio calms down. You don’t have to tell me, if you’re not ready to.”

         Rin looks at him in disbelief.

         “I mean it,” Bon bristles. “l’m _done_ sitting back watching you take the heat by yourself. So just…” His voice dies down, pleading. “Just _stay_ , for tonight at least, if you don’t have any place to go.”

         Rin blinks several times, and Bon realizes he’s fighting tears.

         “ _Please_.” He wanted to do right by him, he _had_ to. After all he’s done to hurt him.

         Rin hesitates, still. His hand wanders to his pocket—checking to see if something was still there.

         Bon’s about to get on his knees and _beg_ when Rin finally nods.

         “Okay,” his voice wavers, _cracks_ in its abuse.

         But it’s still a _yes_ , and Bon tentatively lead shim down the rusted, dirty ladder and into his small, run down apartment.

 

——————————-

 

         Amaimon almost regrets engaging Shura, but it couldn’t have been helped.

         As soon as she had raised her sword the demon king had been between her and Rin in an instant. His reflexes usually kept him out of harms way, but recently he’s noticed that his instincts seem to serve a different master now.

         “This has gone on long enough!” Shura snaps, swinging her blade in a terrifying arc that made the air sing—a clear threat. “I can’t let you do this!”

         Amaimon scowls at her.

         _He would not let her take him._

Rin takes a grip of his cloak, and Amaimon despairingly realizes that he can _sense_ his distress, oozing like miasma. Once again these humans have agitated his prospective bride—and for what? Their constant, _wretched_ paranoia.

         Rin was kept under the thumb of fearful exorcists who were ready to execute him at the drop of a hat, his powers sealed, defenseless against their ire. What would they gain by restricting him, hurting him, locking him away from his _true home_?

         He’d rather _die_ than let Rin suffer anymore.

         “You _can’t_?” Amaimon echoes, voice deceptively light. “You mean, you want him contained within your _thrall,_ instead of _thriving in his own power_?”

         “Don’t twist my words! This is what you wanted all along,” Shura snarls. She's advancing steadily despite Amaimon standing his ground. Rin shuffles closer still, and between the two of them Amaimon can see Yukio drawing his double pistols.

         Amaimon casts his eyes to Mephisto, who seems slack-jawed. _Useless_.

         “Rin,” he says, voice quiet, _patient_ despite the thrill tensing along his spine. “ _Run.”_

         “Don’t you _dare_.” She leaps at the same time Amaimon intuitively shoves Rin out of the way, and he’s blocking her blade with his sharpened claws while Rin makes a break for it.

         He’s not able to stop Yukio from giving chase, and he lets out a guttural growl in frustration as Mephisto, horrified and snapped back to reality, runs off after them both.

         Shura was fast and mean as hell when she wanted to be, and he should’ve known she’s aim for his throat the moment Rin had escaped.

         “All this time you’ve been _toying_ with his feelings— _manipulating_ him into believing you care about him!” Despite her rage her swings are deadly accurate. Amaimon may be fast, but she’s not exactly _slow_. “Why are you _really_ doing this? Is this _funny_ to you?”

         Amaimon bares his teeth in warning, batting away her blade. He had fallen for Rin hard and fast, like leaping from a bell tower face-first into the concrete sidewalk below. He was rattled, confused, and sunk in a grave of _adoration_ for Rin. He was only doing what demons _naturally_ did. And yet, always, _always_ these humans were belittling his culture, as if theirs was somehow _better—_ and why? They were no closer to those golden gates than they were.

         He slips in the dirt; her curved blade catches his sleeve and makes messy work of it—he’d have to get a new coat.

         “I don’t think you _quite_ understand whats going on here.” Amaimon twists out of her blade’s reach before he spins back, backhands her cheek with his claws bared, carving jagged lines across her jaw. Humans were so _delicate_ , it was a wonder they ever managed. What use were they, aside from a barrier, and temptation, a ruse?

         Fury broils in the forefront of Amaimon’s mind. Their fall was great; redemption was not an easy task. Mephisto speaks of it often. Humans were their only way to grace and yet they blocked them _repeatedly_.

         Even now, with hope on the horizon, with Rin to lay his claim to the throne, to change Gehenna itself into something better, something _brighter_ , humans continued to lay waste to their efforts.

         “You won’t take him from me,” Amaimon’s voice wavers. _Not like everything else you’ve taken from us._

         Not like the millions of demons sent back with broken bodies and shattered souls.

         Not like the broken cogs of the Gehenna gate.

         And sure as hell not like Mephisto’s dwindling hope for redemption, his toils laid to waste every generation.

 

——-

 

         “ _Boys_!” Mephisto barks. The sun is rising, and it illuminates his charges in gold, who run like their world, their _souls_ are on fire. Rin charges out of sight into the alleyways and he has no choice but to follow the brothers into the dirt, the grime of gutted trash and broken bottles. He swings his halberd back into it’s original shape of an umbrella, but the alley is too small for him to summon a clock, a cage, _anything_.

         He mildly regrets only learning grandiose summons. He should’ve gotten a pet behemoth, but they were _hellish_ to raise and were half as likely to turn on you, instead.

         His traitorous mind wonders if Yukio would’ve liked one, had he been possibly raised differently and maybe not completely enamored with the idea that all demons were trickers who should return to where they came from.

         Yukio, himself, was reloading several paces ahead, swearing all sorts of ugly things. Mephisto could practically _taste_ his fear, but whether is was of Rin or _for_ him, he wasn’t entirely sure.

         Either way, Mephisto had to stop them both. Yukio was clearly panicking and Rin was equally desperate. Miscommunication was a death sentence for some and they were closer to their graves than they realized.

         Rin’s out of sight; Yukio was getting further and further away. It wouldn’t be long until he lost them both in the shadows cast by the towers overhead.

         Mephisto’s cloak catches on the hooked end of an overturned dumpster. The noise of shredding fabric makes him cringe, but he has no time to think about the sure demise of his favored coat. Thinking fast, he flips his umbrella so that the hook end is outwards.

         It’s a reach; he clips his shoulder on a corner speeding recklessly after him, but he nabs Yukio’s coat collar with the end of it and hauls him backwards with a grunt.

         His charge lets out a loud wail of enraged dismay thats choked by the now suffocating grip of his own coat as he’s flung backwards by his own momentum. He’s thrown bodily into Mephisto, who loses his umbrella for fear of the top spearing him in the chest. It clatters into the darkness as they fall to the ground in a tangle together.

         “Enough,” Mephisto wheezes, thoroughly winded. Yukio struggles to get away from him, swearing through his gasps. “ _Enough!_ ”

         Yukio tenses at his anger. He’d never seen Mephisto’s rage, but his voice thundered through his body and shuddered through his bones.

         His gun— it’s still in his hand, thankfully, though he’s not entirely sure where the other has gone. He’d let go of it in shock.

         It doesn’t matter; he only needs the one, anyway.

         Mephisto feels the steel barrel by his throat before he sees it reflected in Yukio’s lopsided glasses.

         “ _Let go_ ,” Yukio breathes. His voice is cold, and oddly detached. Mephisto has no doubt in his mind that he’d break his spinal chord with a bullet at close range without remorse.

         It would hurt for all of five seconds before his nervous system failed, but he’d be incapacitated for months at the least. _More_ if shrapnel from his broken vertebrae hit his jugular. He’d lose Yukio before he’d lose his ability to walk, which made the glint in his eyes all the more terrifying.

         Or he could just angle the barrel up and blow his brains all over the alleyway.

         There wasn’t much getting up after that.

         “Yukio,” Mephisto keeps his voice soothing, “If you do this, you’ll never regret anything more in your entire _life_.”

         That sounded like a threat, _shit_.

         There’s a small click, which means Yukio just pulled back the hammer and he needed to start talking, _fast_.

         “He’s your brother, Yukio.” Mephisto resolutely refuses to waver. That’s not what Yukio needed

right now, and if Mephisto was going to lead him out of this he had to keep a level head about it. He wasn’t much of a caretaker if he couldn’t do that for him, at least. “He cares about you more than anything in the world, _you know this_.”

         The gears in Yukio’s head are spinning. His grip slackens and tightens at random, and Mephisto hoped it was a good thing.

         “You have to have faith in him,” Mephisto doesn’t make any sudden movements, just stares at him in the face as if the threat of death wasn't hovering over his neck. “just like your _father_ did.”

         Yukio tenses, locks his limbs close as if he were a confused crow, and drops the gun.

         He starts laughing, which is worrisome, until it delves into horrified _tears_.

         Mephisto moves the gun far, _far_ out of his reach before he wraps Yukio’s spasming frame in his arms and the shredded remains of his cloak.

         “ _I’m going to lose him_ ,” Yukio rasps into his necktie. “ _I’m sorry, dad. I’m so sorry._ ”

         Mephisto doesn’t interrupt, despite how tempted he was. Doesn’t point out that Rin would probably return before the week was out, doesn’t say the Fujimoto wouldn’t have been disappointed in him at all.

         He coddles Yukio as much as he can given their circumstances, because he was scared half to death and desperate.

            Just like his brother.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *raises leg* hello children. its been awhile.   
> <3

It would’ve been easy to find Rin, had Shura not clocked him in the face and broken his nose.

 

Amaimon gives a vain little sniffle; all he could smell was his own clotting blood. He could taste it in the back of his throat as well, which was a horrible experience in itself. Touching his nose leads to stabbing pains and he hopes he hadn’t yanked it back into place the wrong way.

 

Shura gives a slightly muffled moan a few yards away. He’s pretty sure she’s unconscious—at least, he _hopes_ so. He doesn’t want to fight her again. His coat may never recover.

 

He takes her sword though. She doesn't deserve a _demon’s_ blade.

 

Amaimon trudges wearily out of the graveyard, following the muddy footsteps of frightened teenagers, wondering vaguely how his life came to be this way. He was exhausted—he must be losing his touch, if a fight like that had taken his strength.

 

“Behemoth,” He rasps once he reaches the road, the trail gone from his remaining senses.

 

There’s some shuffling and a loud snort from the bushes nearby before the round little demon rolls out, leaves and sticks protruding from it’s grinning maw. Amaimon thinks that maybe making his pet the guard dog probably wasn’t the best choice—she wasn’t doing a very good job.

 

“Take me to him.”

 

The Behemoth gargles at him before happily rolling down the street. Amaimon forces his leaden body to follow, grimacing at the pain.

 

But Rin needed him, perhaps now more than ever.

 

Amaimon wonders if Rin’s brother had shot him, and the indignant rage that bursts from his chest propels him faster. He would _kill_ that human if he so dared, related or no. Rin deserved much better than some possessive, righteous brother that didn’t even care for him.

 

His behemoth dashed down several dark alleyways, and Amaimon grimaces at the scent of gunpowder. He should’ve known that bastard would have done this in the end.

 

All exorcists were the _same_.

 

Amaimon hears them before he sees them. Mephisto’s voice, soothing. Muffled sobs.

 

“ _You_.” the king of earth snarls. Yukio, wrapped in Mephisto’s cloak like a child as if to be loved, to be _protected_.

 

What Rin should have, instead.

 

It does not escape his notice that his prospective bride is nowhere to be seen. Escaped, he hopes.

 

Amaimon strides forward, holding Shura’s sword to strike as his blood boils in rage-induced heat. Mephisto rises to meet him, blocking the way.

 

“ _You are a fool_ ,” Amaimon spits before he can speak, attention successfully diverted. “How many times are you going to protect him before he turns on you like he has his own blood?”

 

Yukio makes no movement to show he has heard him. His head remained between his knees, his shoulders slumped in failure.

 

“You have lost your faith in me,” A statement, rather than a question. Mephisto sounds weary, as if his long existence was finally taking its toll on him. He should be relaxing at his long-since abandoned estate in Gehenna, not meandering about with exorcists.

 

Demons were not meant for this side of the mirror, and the thought makes Amaimon’s stomach churn at the cruelty of it all.

 

Even in his weakness Mephisto was stronger than he was; in one swift motion the elder demon had taken Shura’s sword straight from Amaimon’s hand and had broken it over his knee, tossing the pieces carelessly to the side.

 

“You will not be killing anyone tonight, brother.” Mephisto’s voice is yet still the gentle tone he had used when they were both centuries younger. The clatter of the broken sword on the ground, however, was a warning. “Assuming, of course, that you haven’t already killed Shura.”

 

Amaimon bares his teeth. “She may bleed out in the dirt yet.”

 

Yukio gives a little jerk but doesn’t look at them.

 

Mephisto huffs out a small chuckle. “Getting soft in your affections, Amaimon.”

 

“Do not tempt me to violence.” Amaimon snaps in reply, turning away from them. He cannot kill Yukio when he is under Mephisto’s care, that much is certain. It would be suicide, not to mention…

 

He can’t waste anymore time.

 

The opal in Amaimon’s breast pocket crackles with life, violent light and impending thunder. Yet another human, daring to approach his mate. They will not live longer yet.

 

Amaimon hurries after his impatiently waiting Behemoth, who had been gnawing on something that glittered. He barks an order; _find him!_

 

Behemoth runs.

 

—

 

Bon wishes he would’ve cleaned his apartment earlier, because despite his usually orderly style there were old cups of coffee and stacks of books all over his living room, making it hard to get around without sidestepping one or the other.

 

Rin glances out the window, looking worried.

 

“I’ll clean this it’s okay,” Bon says hurriedly, taking armfuls and shoving them into corners to free up the couch and coffee table he was working at. He hadn’t moved all of his furniture yet, what a _disaster_. “Do you want some tea? Coffee?”

 

He almost trips on a stack of hymns, and Rin looks briefly like he’s about to smile.

 

Then he looks out the window again, and it vanishes.

 

“Bon…”

 

“It’s too late for coffee,” Bon blurts in a panic, shoving the pile under the couch and dashing for his half-kitchen. Stupid, what was he _thinking_. “I’ll make tea. Make yourself at home!”

 

Confused, Rin settles himself on the couch cushion closest to the window. Bon is oddly tempted to pull the blinds, and shakes the feeling off roughly. _Tea_ _first_.

 

The kettle is loud; it clatters on the stovetop like it wanted to shatter the atmosphere with noise. Bon wanted quiet. He felt like too much noise would break Rin.

 

He glances over his shoulder.

 

His new house guest has curled himself into the corner of the couch as if he wanted to disappear into it, his shoulders hunched like a small bird’s. Tense, like the whole world was about to fall apart around him.

 

He hadn’t helped Rin when he needed it most.

 

The reminder of it make’s Bon’s heart clench.

 

It had been obvious to everyone in the class that Rin was at least part demon, be it some small fraction that lead to pointed ears or something more, something he hid, perhaps out of fear, perhaps because he just wanted to feel normal.

 

And they played along. Didn’t question when Rin cringed away from certain medical herbs or smoke, didn’t ask why he didn’t say certain hymns or touch the holy water.

 

He never hurt them, never lashed out like one would expect a demon, was accepted by their teachers and their principal.

 

People who were part demon, it wasn’t that unusual. Ryuji was pretty sure Kamiki was 1/16th _something_ , nobody had eyes like that, and he’s pretty sure their principal was something too. Maybe even a _full_ demon.

 

But Rin wasn’t a fraction of some demon that existed generations ago, and he wasn’t some run of the mill bastard child of a neglectful spirit either--he was the literal spawn of satan himself, terrifying blue fire and all.

 

Which was a bit confusing, given how he didn’t look anything like Ryuji had imagined the ‘bringer of the apocalypse’ to be. For one thing he imagined him to be taller, meaner--not a tiny, fluffy try-hard who smiled like the world depended on his particular glint of sunshine-on-canine delight. He was frantic in a way that could only be described as endearing and Ryuji…

 

Ryuji wanted to hate him so badly, because the guilt of leaving him to die was slowly killing him.

 

The kettle wails. He quickly grabs it, nearly spilling it in his haste as he fills empty mugs with boiling water and herbs he’d bought from Shiemi’s mother. He had failed Rin as his friend.

 

He needed to help him, whatever it took.

 

His resolve hardened, Bon carried he mugs back into his sparse living room.

 

Rin looked _exhausted_. He held his cup delicately, as if he was seconds away from dropping it. Bon tries to tell his anxiety to shove it and he bypasses the armchair and sits on the floor across the low table from him. The state of his carpet wasn’t important right now.

 

“So,” Bon says, after another long moment of utter silence. “how are things, aside from the, uh, brother problem. I mean, you can totally talk about that. When you want. Just. Uh, if you _don’t_ want to talk about that its fine.” Bon tried very hard to refrain from punching himself in the face, although it was a very _near_ thing.

 

Rin blinks at him slowly.

 

Then, a wary sort of smile.

 

“I have a boyfriend.” Another glance out the window, and a soft smile.  “I think i’m in love with him.”

 

Bon feels like he’s been kicked in the heart. And maybe his intestines.

 

“ _Really_ ,” Bon cringes inwardly at his high pitched attempt at normalcy. “Is he…cool?”

 

_Dumbass, the fuck kind of question is that_?!

 

Rin snorts loudly, as if the very idea of it was insane. “ _Never_. But that sort of makes him cool by proxy?”

 

“Thats…cool.” _Fuck, that was dumb_. “I mean, that he’s not worried about that kind of thing. That kind. Um.”

 

Why were they talking about this guy when it made Bon’s heart hurt?

 

Something connected wrong in his head for a brief moment. He frowned, turned it over, thinking. Then, the realization, “Wait, how long have you _known_ this guy?”

 

Rin blinks at him. “Well…I met him around the beginning of this semester? We started dating about a week ago. I dunno, he just kind of….” Rin leans his head on one hand, looking far away. “… _gets_ me, I guess.”

 

Rin lets out a little sigh that can only be described as _lovesick_. Bon kind of wants to be sick himself.

 

He takes a deep drink of his tea, despite the fact that it hadn’t cooled down yet and was now scalding his throat in punishment.

 

He doesn’t _deserve_ to feel jealous of this stranger, he reminds himself. He had abandoned Rin, and if he was being honest with himself, he doesn’t really deserve to have the other on his couch right now, let alone having a conversation together that didn’t consist of mainly arguments over stupid shit.

 

“Bon?”

 

Startled, He nearly dumped his tea on himself when he looks up at Rin, who was giving him a worried look.

 

“Are you okay?” He’s cautious, as if the answer might be his own undoing. “You’re, uh, glaring at your drink.”

 

“It’s,” Bon struggles, then ends lamely, “…the same kind of tea. Uh. I just.” He lets out a sigh through his teeth forces the clot in his throat down and says. “I’m _worried_ , man.”

 

Rin’s face morphs into surprise, and Bon tries not to let it bother him that Rin is surprised that other people care about his well-being. He’s either stupid or…well. He didn’t want to think about any other reason—they hurt too much.

 

“I mean, what happened at the school, not about your boyfriend. You were just _gone_ , you didn’t come back for a _week._ It wasn’t like you but we—no, I just didn’t…” _Rin deserves to know_. “I was too afraid of you to check on you, and thats _fucked up_ but I was too much of a coward to do it.”

 

He spits it out before Rin’s shocked dismay stops him.

 

“It’s my fault,” Bon’s voice is heavy with misery. “If I’d have gotten over it, then maybe Konekomaru would have, too, and the entire thing wouldn’t have happened.”

 

Rin is very quiet.

 

“Bon,” he finally says. “It’s not your fault that happened. It’s just…it was bound to happened at some point or another, okay?”

 

Bon wants to disagree.

 

He _can’t_.

 

Exorcists weren’t known for giving demons second chances, after all. It was a shoot first ask questions later sort of relationship on both sides. Rin was caught in an odd place in the middle, being a literal demon spawn and also raised by an exorcist himself. It was jarring, and…

 

Unrealistic. It was a miracle he wasn’t _dead_ yet.

 

“It shouldn’t have happened,” almost a mumble.

 

“I’m glad it did.” Rin’s voice was soft, contemplative, and Bon stares in shock. He’d never heard Rin use that tone before; it was unnerving in a way that made a shiver crawl up his back. “I wouldn’t have met him, and I wouldn’t know that—“

 

Something is clamoring loudly up the fire escape.

 

Rin is frozen for all of two seconds before he drops his mug—yep, stains on the carpet, landlords’ gonna be _pissed_ — and puts as much distance between himself and the window as was possible, looking fearful.

 

Bon struggles to stand, grimacing at feel of his knees popping. His staff, he left it by the door, how _stupid_ —!

 

“Oh thank _fuck_ ,” Rin says loudly.

 

A rather large Behemoth was smudging its face over the window pane, its expression gleeful. A _familiar_ behemoth, in fact.

 

“What do you mean _thank fuck_?!” Bon shouts, stumbling for the staff and nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. This couldn’t be happening again. He was _not_ going to have the King of Earth anywhere near his or Rin’s person, not after the _last time_.

 

“No, wait, it’s _okay_ , he’s my—!“

 

“Hey, let go of my staff are you _crazy_ —!“

 

The window shatters, glass shards spreading like a cloud before clattering to the ground in sharp angles of light.

 

“Amaimon!” Rin’s mouth snaps shut, horror spreading across his face.

 

_He was bleeding_. His coat was torn more so than usual, and blood could be seen sluggishly spreading across cuts underneath. His breathing was labored, as if he had run a great distance with very little energy to compensate for it.

 

He was snarling, and his malevolent gaze was trained right on Bon.

 

 


End file.
